


metamorphosis

by merelyans



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Internalized Misogyny, Internalized Sexism, Language Barrier, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oikawa is a badass, Omega Oikawa Tooru, Omega Verse, Overcoming Sexism, Prejudice against omegas, Royalty, the first few chapters have lots of internalized sexism and prejudice, there are made up languages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyans/pseuds/merelyans
Summary: Oikawa Tooru was raised to be the perfect omega, submissive in every way to everyone above him, nothing but a ways to give a king heirs, something to be used again and again. Oikawa Tooru is married off to a Prince he doesn't know, the only Prince who answers his parents' proposal, a last resort marriage to get rid of a useless Prince.Oikawa Tooru sees the world for the first time through free eyes, and his cocoon starts to take shape.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 245
Kudos: 353
Collections: Iwaoi





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags state, the first few chapters of this have lots of internalized sexism and depictions of prejudice against omegas, but I swear that it won't be in every chapter.

“This is it, this is how I die.”

Metal wraps around Tooru’s neck and tightens, Tooru choking for air. He can feel it, the cold grip of death, like bony fingers on his throat, dragging him to the Underworld.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tooru, my gods,” His mother scolds, fastening the clasp of his necklace, a custom made sort of thing that’s meant to replace the traditional lace collar he’s meant to wear. “It is your wedding day, you should be overflowing with joy.”

She’s right. He _should_ be overflowing with joy. He _should_ be in tears looking at how beautiful he looks in the mirror, his hair perfectly cut to frame his face, his face painted with the finest makeup that the kingdom has to offer, lips as red as a summer rose. He _should_ be ecstatic to see his betrothed waiting for him at the end of the aisle within the hour. 

But he isn’t.

And for good reason.

He’s terrified. He’s terrified of having an alpha, of losing what freedom he knows he has. Terrified of losing the freedom of going to the gardens, the freedom of leaving his room twice a day, the freedom of being taught how to read and write. He knows almost nothing of his husband-to-be’s country, and he doesn’t want to lose the freedoms he has here at home.

“You should be grateful that an alpha even accepted our offer,” His mother continues, tying his waist with fabric to show off his slight curves and his hips, perfectly wide for bearing pups. “You’re so tall for an omega, Tooru, dear, I was so worried that no one would want you and we’d have to give up the throne to the Ushijimas without a proper transfer of power.”

Tooru frowns in the mirror, his eyes dull compared to the bright golden yellow hue of his eyeshadow. He looks gorgeous, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to feel pretty. He’s basically being sold as a product to his husband-to-be, his own dowry. That’s all he’s good for, though, and deep down in his bones he knows it's true.

From today on, he’ll be his husband’s whore.

His mother keeps reminding him about how lucky he is to have been accepted by someone, even if it isn’t by a nearby kingdom. He’s always been too tall for his kingdom’s typical omega, too muscular, not as soft and rounded. He isn’t what alphas want, and he has been reminded of that every time one of his offers would come back rejected. Two years of courting requests until he came of age at eighteen, and then two years of rejected marriage proposals at twenty. 

He knows they were rejected because he doesn’t look like an omega, and will have to make up for what he lacks in appearance with the skills he’s learned. Skills to aid in a life of pleasing his alpha and giving them as many pups as he’s rewarded with carrying.

He could have passed as a beta, and he sincerely did think he would have presented as one when he was younger, planning on taking the throne with a wife or husband of his own. The young prince of Shiratorizawa, learning how to fight with a wooden sword before he could be trusted with a real one, sitting in on his father’s battle plannings, able to speak his mind.

The young prince of Shiratorizawa, who once led guard training sessions and walked freely outside of the palace walls, able to talk to his own people. He was someone to look up to, someone who had once been strong enough to lead his people. Prince Oikawa Tooru, a voice of the people.

Then he turned sixteen, and he had his first heat. 

It was awful, waking up in his bedchambers, alone and scared, a mind full of desire for a fullness he’s never known, his handmaiden rushing to get his parents and show them the shameful mess he had become. He remembers pitifully crying out for an alpha, an unfamiliar and unpleasant wetness gathering on his sheets, his throat dry and scratchy, tears in his eyes. Above all else, he remembers the deep feeling of emptiness, the need to have something more, to metaphorically scratch an itch that was buried deep inside.

And he hates himself for it, for having the audacity to present as anything other than what was expected of him. The audacity to be an omega and become the ruin of his parents’ reign.

His alpha father and beta mother had been stripped of their heir overnight, and it didn’t take long for word to get around the entire kingdom that their prince was an _omega,_ and that if their prince wasn’t taken by another kingdom, he would certainly become the property of the next family in line for the throne.

He doesn’t have anything against the Ushijima family, don’t get him wrong. In fact, their eldest son, the one that he would have been promised to, is rather nice, if a little dense and more than a little blunt. But Tooru knows that he has his eyes on another (tall and rather beta-looking, but who is he to judge) omega that was traded as a house servant, and he can’t bring himself to want to break Tendou and Wakatoshi apart. No, he doesn’t have anything against the Ushijima family, and although he knows he would be welcomed as Wakatoshi’s omega, he can’t deal with the societal shame that would come with being an alpha’s secondary omega, and the shame of ruining the Oikawa reign is enough.

Now, if he ever wants to bring honor back to both himself and his family, he must fulfill his role as the omega husband to the prince of the Seijoh Kingdom. He _must_ be the perfect omega, just like he has been ever since he presented as one.

In addition to trying for another heir, his mother talking highly about his future unborn siblings, the ones that’ll save the reign that he so selfishly ended, they replaced his battle training with sewing (to make clothes for his future children), meetings with his father’s generals with trips to the castle gardens (so that his floral scent didn’t distract the guards), and they started drilling omegan traditions into his head (to make sure he learned to submit). They never had an alpha son, or even a beta son, and now they’re stuck with a useless omega to sell off. 

Well, not _entirely_ useless. He would be useful in the production of new heirs for another kingdom, his future children becoming pawns of an alliance between Shiratorizawa and Seijoh.

Not _him,_ but his unborn children.

The only thing that was expected of him, the once promising future heir, the once true prince for the people, was to act according to tradition, serve and submit to any and all alphas regardless of their status, and bear children for his own alpha.

That was it. 

His new sole purpose in life. No ruling a kingdom, no academics, no physical training as to not become infertile or otherwise wound himself, and certainly no acceptance to the advances of any alpha other than the one he’s promised to. Even though he’s remained pure and true as the first untouched snow of winter, he’s still had verbal advances made on him by any alpha who’s ever crossed his path. They knew he would be gifted to another, but that didn’t stop them from giving him a piece of their mind as to how amazing it would be to see him, a filthy whore of a royal, spread his legs for them.

He puts his hands against the mirror as his mother instructs him and she pulls tighter on his waist cinch, knocking the wind from his lungs. He groans softly as she ties the fabric just loose enough for him to breathe, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hands. 

“You should show your husband just how grateful you are tonight, Tooru, you hear me?”

Her voice is a shallow warning. Tooru swallows thickly.

“Yes, mother, I will.”

“Especially since you went and started your spring heat last week. It will be summer before you are able to conceive again, and it is absolutely terrible that you have to keep your husband waiting.”

“Yes, mother, I know. I will show him how sorry I am for starting my heat without him.”

It’s not like he _wanted_ to go into heat early. He chalks it all up to the stress of the wedding, but he just got blamed for it anyways. Maybe it really is his fault, for getting so worked up over nothing, or getting so excited at the thought of having an alpha to fuck him, and triggering the heat. 

He hopes his future husband won’t be too angry with him.

“Repeat the rules, Tooru, I want to make sure you know them,” His mother orders, fixing his golden headpiece so that it’s perfectly straight, careful not to mess with his hair too much. “I am not too confident an omega like you could remember so much at a time, especially with the thought that your new alpha is waiting to fill you up tonight.”

He bites his lip, but he doesn’t hold it for too long. He knows better than to defy his parents, and even better to defy a beta. 

“After the ceremony I will change into the consummation robes and wait for him in his bed chambers. When he enters, I will present myself to him, and I will make sure that he breeds me at any cost. My needs are irrelevant, and I should refrain from making any noises so as to not interrupt unless I am given permission. If I break any of the rules, I will accept the punishment as he sees fit.”

Punishment. 

He would take anything if it meant he doesn’t get rejected, but it would be better for everyone if he sticks to the rules. He’s to let his alpha use him, and if he’s good at his job, he might be pleasured, too.

“Good boy,” She grins, smoothing out his hair and bringing him down to place a kiss on the top of his head, her hands brushing against his back. “You will be such a lovely omega for him, Tooru, so obedient.” She brushes a hand against his cheek, careful not to mess up his makeup.

He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore.

“Have you learned enough of his language to get through the night?”

“I know enough to follow his orders,” Tooru says dryly, his stomach pulling at the thought. He isn’t quite sure if the pull is good or bad, but it certainly is a feeling.

“You will learn soon enough when you get to your new home,” She coos, reapplying blush to his cheeks. “You look so beautiful, I am more than sure that he will want to take you the moment he sees you. I will have such beautiful grandchildren, and with such a strong alpha father, I am sure they will all take after him.”

It hurts, and Tooru knows that it’s the same thing she said when he was little, how he would take after his father as well. The King of Shiratorizawa is also a “strong alpha”, and yet here Tooru is, getting practically disowned in favor of his parents being able to say that they have familial ties to the Seijoh Kingdom.

 _The Seijoh Kingdom,_ he thinks, _what a barbaric sort people._

When the offer had been accepted two months ago, his parents had hired a local scholar who had been born in the Seijoh Kingdom to come and teach him the basics of their culture, a culture the scholar barely knew outside of what it was like decades ago. 

It seemed like a nice gesture on the surface, to teach him about his new home, but Tooru knows that it’s not because they wanted him to know his future husband’s culture and practices, but to keep him from angering the prince and embarrassing the family. It wasn’t even an informative string of lessons, and he only learned about the kingdom as a whole, and what it had been like over fifty years ago.

They're physical people, priding themselves on athletic prowess rather than academics like Shiratorizawa. Sure, Shiratorizawa does have a strong military, but they’re more likely to try and make compromises with allies and use some force against enemies, a balance. His own people pride themselves on balance, alphas being one side of the coin, and omegas being the other. 

And from what he’s heard, Seijoh opt to attack now and ask questions later.

The Seijoh Kingdom is also very far away, just over two weeks by carriage, passing through two other kingdoms on its way. It’s a kingdom bigger than Shiratorizawa, powerful, with their armies taking down almost everyone who dares cross their paths. They’re allied to many other western kingdoms, and prove to be beneficial to anyone who want to win a war. 

The alliance made when Prince Iwaizumi Hajime takes the throne in a few months might prove to be a great political move on behalf of Tooru’s father. There’s been some tension between Shiratorizawa and the Inarizaki Kingdom to the north, but if Inarizaki catches word of an alliance with Seijoh, they’ll most likely be more attune to taking the nonviolent compromise his father had proposed.

It had shocked Tooru to find out that his new home’s culture doesn’t typically have weddings, and that Prince Iwaizumi was traveling to Shiratorizawa for the sole purpose of completing the rituals of his own people. Must be to show to the King that he will respect his culture, if he will respect the Seijoh culture in return. He can’t imagine what his life would be like in a place like that, so garish and brutal, but he just has to suck it up.

“I think it is just about time you get to the altar,” His mother brushes off her own dress, giving Tooru another once-over to make sure that there’s nothing that could possibly get him rejected at first glance.

As long as he keeps his mouth shut, he should be fine. Through the wedding, and through the wedding night.

“So pretty, Tooru, you are certainly at your peak right now. Glowing. I can only imagine a time where you glow more would be when you are full of pups.”

She walks him to the door, and it doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel like he’s going from his room to the altar, like he’ll be a married man within the hour. The sun is setting on the horizon, the night buzzing with the soft call of the evening songbirds, and he’s walking with his mother as a chaperone. It’s more like a normal Tuesday evening on a trip to the gardens, and it most certainly doesn’t feel like his last night in Shiratorizawa. 

He looks around the courtyard as they make their way to the grand meeting hall, which has been prepared the entire week leading up to tonight. It looks just like how it always has, and the familiarity is enough to keep him (mostly) comfortable. He can feel his heart beating against his dress, against his ribcage, but it hardly feels like it’s moving, most likely because the strip of fabric wrapped around him is tight enough to hold it in place.

He feels like he’s about to be sick, but he chokes it down. Can’t have anything out of place for his future husband, lest he get rejected and spend his days as nameless property in an unfamiliar land. As soon as they mark each other with the ashes of their names, he belongs to Seijoh. If he’s rejected, he’ll still be owned as property, and it’ll be up to his husband to decide what to do with him.

The thought alone is terrifying, and he’s grateful that his foundation is white and can mask the blood draining out of his face. He approaches the large wooden doors, the very doors that he could only ever dream of opening. The last time he was allowed in the meeting hall was when he was still passing a beta, and it almost feels wrong to enter again.

The exterior and interior of the hall are decorated in the usual muted colors of the court, white flowers to symbolize his omegan purity, red to symbolize the passion of an alpha, and yellow to wish them joy and a new beginning. 

It’s customary that the mother of the bride or the equivalent escorts them down the aisle to the altar, a way of showing that the omega or beta has been cared for by their own, and has learned how to be a bride. She grabs his arm in a grip so tight that he has to stop himself from gasping, but he knows that his mother is just worried for him. Worried he’ll be rejected at first glance.

Everything rests on Prince Iwaizumi accepting Tooru. 

If he values his own life, he’ll do nothing to make himself seem unwanted. Smile pretty, walk proper, submit in every way to his alpha, and _maybe_ he’ll be rewarded with the honor of carrying a Prince’s pups. 

It’s not that Tooru actually wants children immediately after getting married, but it isn’t his choice to make. But if it was, he wouldn’t want to conceive just yet, unsure of how to actually care for a child. Would he even be a good mother? They certainly taught him how, but there’s so much uncertainty, a lot of it packed away in the files of his own mind, and he would never dare speak them aloud.

But then again, it’s not his choice to make. And what’s more, he’s never known a married omega to be without a child within a year of being married, so his near future is one that he can read like an open book. Usually, weddings are to be held on the first day of heat, or the day before, to make sure that the omega was ready to give children as soon as possible.

Tooru already screwed that one up, and all he can do is hope and pray that his soon-to-be-husband doesn't mind.

The odds aren’t in his favor.

He takes in a deep breath and his mother opens the doors, a rush of warm air washing over him with all of the occupants in the room. All eyes are on him, but he finds himself staring at the man standing at the end of the aisle, at the base of the silk pillows to kneel on and the table containing the candle they will light, the paper they will set ablaze, and the tray for the ashes they will mark each other with.

He immediately staggers forward, but quickly conducts himself when he feels a small squeeze on his arm from his right. A warning. A warning not to mess this up.

The closer he gets to Prince Iwaizumi, the more he can see his features. He can see the outline of his muscles through the fabric of the matrimony robes he wears, he can see the edge of his sharp jawline, and he can see his piercing eyes, which look a little wide at the sight of him.

Is that good?

He tries not to think too hard about it. Most of the occupants of the hall are Shiratorizawa nobles, all here to witness and confirm the passing of Tooru from the Oikawa family to the Iwaizumi family, but the Seijoh representatives do not go unnoticed. In fact, they’re the only other thing that Tooru can stomach to look at, just out of pure curiosity.

Most of them are dressed in rather Shiratorizawa style clothing, but the colors are brighter and the fabric sits looser like they don’t know how to tie their robes properly. A few of them are omegas, as Tooru can smell as he walks by, citrus and floral notes hiding among the musk and forest floor, and he can’t help but wonder why an alpha would bring their omega to something like this. It might just be because they plan on using the omega afterwards, or perhaps because they don’t want to leave their omegas alone with foreign alphas. 

That must be the reason, he can’t think of any other explanation.

Tooru wishes more than anything that he was made aware of alphas and omegas in western culture, but it can’t be too different to Seijoh, right? All of the kingdoms in the east and a few in the Northeast and Southeast are virtually the same way, with alphas on top and omegas serving under them, although to varying degrees.

That’s just the way things are.

He meets Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes and quickly averts his gaze, not wanting to seem like he’s challenging the alpha, but he can feel his face start to heat up, knowing that the alpha is still very much staring at him. And as he approaches, it’s the smell that gets to him.

Prince Iwaizumi _smells_ like a powerful alpha, and he swallows thickly. He’s not the most dominant smelling alpha that Tooru’s ever met, but there’s something about it, about the scent of freshly dried black tea leaves, that makes him want to drop to his knees and present right then and there. 

It’s certainly something that would make for an interesting wedding night.

He’s always imagined what his first time would be like. What his husband might look like, what his voice might sound like as he commands him from behind. He never had a face to pair it with. Well, that might be a lie, since there was a short while where he was convinced it really would be Ushijima Wakatoshi, (row two, sitting behind his father, the king’s general), but now he has a tangible alpha. 

_He has an alpha._

The realization hits him like a brick when he stands in front of the table, his heart going through the stages of grief when he realizes that he’s taller. How awful, his height. It’s the height of an alpha, not of a lowly omega. It’s wasted on him.

If Prince Iwaizumi minds, he doesn’t show it, but Tooru can’t help but notice all the glances his betrothed is stealing from him. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off of Tooru, his mouth slightly parted in what Tooru can only describe as shock. It sends a shiver up Tooru’s spine, his stomach churning at the thought of what might be going through his head. He knows that he isn’t your typical omega, but hopefully Tooru can prove that he is good enough as the short, plump omegas that you’d usually find carrying their alpha’s children. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to think about it too long, the officiator clearing his throat as he steps up on the platform before them, Tooru’s parents watching from their thrones behind him. 

The officiator is the best marriage official in the entire kingdom, brought in specifically for noble weddings. He’s absolutely and nearly comically _ancient,_ and probably officiated not only Tooru’s parents’ wedding, but his grandparents’ as well. Tooru does take notice of another person with the officiator, someone who Tooru has never seen before, but she wears the official Shiratorizawa ceremonial robes, so he doesn’t question it.

“Dearest nobles of the court,” He begins, the second woman speaking in another language. _Ah, a translator._ If Prince Iwaizumi had learned their language, then he would not need one, but the other Seijoh nobles must need her. “Nobles of Shiratorizawa, nobles of Seijoh, we are gathered here today to witness the pairing of an alpha to his omega.”

Tooru’s heard this many times before, but for some reason, despite knowing this entire process by heart, it all feels new and foreign. And not foreign in the way that the translator is speaking. He sucks in a small breath, hoping to calm his nerves.

He’s done this many times before, even more so this week in preparation for the wedding. He can do this, and he must do this. Impress his alpha by showing him how well he can follow instructions.

That’s what all of this is for, after all, a showcase of how the omega can do anything that’s demanded of them. A sneak peek to their submission competency. He hopes he can pass the test, especially with his parents watching.

“You may kneel.”

Tooru and Prince Iwaizumi kneel onto the pillows in unison, the translator choosing not to translate the sentence. So he does speak their language, or, at least some of their language. Tooru knows enough to recognize the words hands, knees, move, suck, and other things of the like. He wonders if Prince Iwaizumi was taught similar words, him knowing the word “kneel” not sounding too promising.

“Prince Iwaizumi Hajime, please take the candle,” The translator repeats in his language, and he grabs the candle, holding it in his left hand. It’s meant to be the right hand, but no one’s going to give him shit for it. “Oikawa Tooru,” Not even Prince, like he often forgets he is. Not to mention it’s the first time he’s used his family name in months. “Light your alpha’s candle, as to show your commitment to his flame alone.”

Tooru grabs the matches from the center of the table, holding one in his right hand, the detached rough strip in his left. He brings the match to the strip and strikes it, the head breaking off in his hand. 

His mouth goes dry, and he can feel everyone’s disappointed eyes on his back, not daring to look up at his parents. He can feel Prince Iwaizumi staring at him, hear a small amused puff of air leave his lips. Honestly, he could throw up right here and now. Instead, he quickly grabs another and strikes it, a flame combusting at the tip.

Thank the gods, he wouldn't have survived another screw up. He might have just spontaneously combusted.

He lights the candle, avoiding eye contact with the Prince, more out of respect than anything, and Iwaizumi puts it back into its holder. In front of them are two strips of paper and two quills, and the officiator instructs them to write their names on the paper in front of them.

Another show of what an omega can do. Tooru has been gifted the right to know how to write his own name. He knows how to write a lot more than that, and can read most of the lettering he’s been taught, but as far as his betrothed knows, he can only write his name.

He hopes the alpha isn’t put off by it, but it is customary that all omegas know how to write and write at least their name and their alpha’s name, so that it can be displayed on their collars when they go out in public. 

All omegas had to wear one in public in Shiratorizawa, bonded or not, although bonded omegas tended to have extra accessories added to their collars to show off which family they belonged to. Tooru never had to wear one in his everyday life, but he did have to wear them for special occasions.

They had opted for a necklace rather than a collar for the wedding, though, so that he could expose his neck to the Prince. It wasn’t customary for Shiratorizawa weddings, the sight of his unbonded neck during his wedding ceremony nearly scandalous, but it was the one thing from Seijoh’s customs that they had incorporated into their own celebration.

A compromise made between kings, Tooru knowing full well that one of the Shiratorizawa customs would be incorporated into the Seijoh celebrations upon their Prince’s return. It’s odd, to expose his neck like this so freely in front of others, but it aligns with everything else he’s heard about the Seijoh kingdom. 

The officiator tells them to light the papers and put them in the ashtray, so that they may burn together to symbolize coming together as one or how they represent the flames in each other or some other bullshit. It isn’t lost on Tooru that a lot of the speech is targeted at him being submissive, or towards Prince Iwaizumi as being dominant. As the Prince writes his name out, he also takes notice that they share a writing system, which he thanks the gods for.

Finally, he dips his thumb into the ash and turns to face the Prince, finally locking eyes with him. He has to keep himself from gasping, diving into those deep green eyes. How odd, to have green eyes and tan skin. Tooru’s never seen such a combination, his skin fair from his time indoors, his eyes a common brown. Prince Iwaizumi is… rather handsome, to say the very least. More handsome than he ever could have hoped for in his alpha.

Tooru reaches his hand up and draws an ‘x’ over Prince Iwaizumi’s scent glands, the Prince’s gaze staring him down with an unreadable emotion. It’s like there’s stars swirling in his eyes, but there’s also a hungry void, one that can’t wait to suck him in. 

He raises his thumb and gently presses it to Tooru’s neck, completing his own mark. His touch is gentle, warm, and Tooru almost sighs in pure satisfaction of having someone touch him so gently. He looks up and meets Tooru’s eyes, a small smile on his lips. Tooru hopes that the blush and foundation were hiding his true blush, his face heating up under the gaze of the Prince, his scent surrounding him in a blanket of… dare he say comfort? 

“You may now seal your companionship with a kiss, forever marking you as Prince Iwaizumi Hajime and his omega, Iwaizumi-Oikawa Tooru.”

Oh right, that. 

_The kiss._

It’s just a kiss. He can do this. It’s not like he’s not going to be doing a lot more with the Prince later. Just a kiss. His first kiss, but that doesn’t matter. Well, it does, it matters very much, his eligibility of being married off riding on the fact that this was his first, well, everything.

Prince Iwaizumi’s hand is still hovering near his cheek, so he lightly grabs it with a small caress, leaning in. Tooru lets him take charge and closes his eyes, feeling Iwaizumi’s lips brush against his own as he tries to fit himself in like a puzzle piece. They’re rough where his are soft, warm where his are sweet, shameless where his were innocent.

He’s never felt more like an omega, but for the first time, among many firsts today, he doesn’t mind, not with such a pleasant scent surrounding him. He wants nothing more than to obey, to live and thrive in this scent of black tea, and again, just _obey._

His parents would be proud.

The Prince pulls away, traces of red across his lips from Tooru’s lipstick, and Tooru hopes that he doesn't mind. In fact, it almost looks rather cute, and Tooru can’t help but crack a smile. He might be able to get used to this. The Prince stares at him, basking in everything that is _his_ omega, Tooru’s heart pinging at the thought of, “yes, I’ve done good, he likes me”. 

He might even like him back.

The room breaks out into an applause, the Seijoh group much louder than the rest of the hall, calling out cheers in their own language and clapping loudly while the Shiratorizawa nobles gingerly press their hands together.

He barely has time to think before Tooru is being whisked away from his newly wed husband by his mother and passed off to his handmaidens for preparations for the wedding night.

If Tooru was nervous for the kiss, then this is a full blown anxiety attack. Well, not really, but comparatively, yes, this is much worse than being just a little nervous. The handmaidens take him to his own room, the room of a former prince, and they strip and scrub him down, making sure that he’s thoroughly clean. A beta and fellow omega come to check to make sure Tooru has kept his virginal status, which is probably one of the most awkward moments of the night. Yet. Upon passing the test to see that he is, indeed, properly tight to the mere touch and smells only of himself, he’s ready.

While he’s being dried off, a handmaiden passes him a small drink that’s meant to have properties to make things go a little easier, stimulate his slick production to get him nice and wet so that his pain can’t get in the way of his husband’s pleasure, and he takes in a small breath before drinking it. 

It doesn’t create anything that isn’t already there, not an aphrodisiac, and it does happen to be customary, so it isn’t cheating. Still, the more he thinks about how his night is going to go the more its effects slowly but surely start to come to fruition. The wetness is nearly uncomfortable now that he’s far into being pampered and prodded, finally fit into a sheer gown that hides almost nothing and delivered to an empty room in the guest wing.

He feels hot. 

Not _heat_ hot, but hot enough to make his skin itch and crave the touch of another body, hot enough to stir up his insides at the mere thought of Prince Iwaizumi. He can smell the faint traces of his alpha lingering in the air, and it makes him want to either bury his head in anything that might carry the scent, or just explode on the spot. The Prince had only arrived earlier today, so the bed wouldn’t smell like him, but he must have spent at least a little time in here for the scent to be this prevalent. Tooru can make out a few other alphas’ scents, but they don’t put him on edge nearly as much as the scent of tea does. 

He sits on top of the sheets like he’s told to, and is promptly left alone to await his husband. His heart pounds in his chest, and he adjusts the fabric on his shoulders, the robe leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. If he wasn’t already gawked at by all of the servants surrounding him as he was walked to the guest room, as well as a handful of castle guards, he would have been embarrassed, sitting here like this. 

The sheets are cool to the touch, most likely from the surrounding air, and he can’t help but run a hand along the fabric, trying to feel anything that might satisfy the building heat in his core. It won’t help, of course, as he needs something else entirely. He isn’t scared of giving himself to someone, as he’s spent the past four years of his life being told about this day, this chapter of his life, but he is terrified of doing something that might upset the Prince.

It’s the most shameful thing, to be rejected by an alpha. He belongs to Seijoh now, and even if he is rejected, it’s out of his parents’ hands, and he has no way of knowing what the Prince might do to him if his worst fears come to pass. He has a few ideas, and none of them are pleasant.

But then again, that smile, the wide eyes, _the kiss._ Prince Iwaizumi had to have accepted him, right? He’ll be a good omega for him, starting tonight. Submit, shut up, and take everything he gives. 

Seems easy enough.

The door swings open, and Tooru can’t help but jump a little at the overwhelming scent of an alpha, the door closing almost as quickly as it had opened. In the dim candlelight of the room, he can see Prince Iwaizumi’s figure, the muscular frame, the tan skin, looking down he can see some of the definition in his calves and thighs, his skin donning a few scars that he had not seen when he first walked in. The scars get bigger and… how is that possible? Oh wait, he’s getting closer. He’s literally so stupid.

Tooru looks up and meets his husband’s eyes, the Prince looking at him as if he’s seeing him again for the first time. 

“Tev’e lind,” He gasps in his native tongue, eyes curiously scanning over him now that his makeup has been removed, the words utterly wasted on Tooru. It must be good, considering it’s being said with such praise, such softness that Tooru never would have expected from the alpha, sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Then, he realizes, his voice is absolutely gorgeous. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other yet, so whatever Prince Iwaizumi had said had been the first thing he said to his husband. 

And it sounded like praise.

He looks down at Tooru as he continues to rattle off compliments, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, the words somewhat nervous. At least, they sound a little nervous, but then it lilts into a question, and Tooru nods, knowing nothing of what he’s said but knowing that his alpha knows what’s best for him. The Prince says something else, and a deep sense of dread starts to build up in his stomach as he realizes that if it was a command, he has already disobeyed. He bites his lip, and Prince Iwaizumi reaches a hand out to stroke Tooru’s cheek, sending sparks across his skin. He leans into the touch, and the alpha lifts his chin.

“Is okay still?” The Prince gently asks in Tooru’s language, a little choppy, the pronunciation a little off, but Tooru gets the gist. 

He nods, and barely has time to think before he feels the same pair of rough lips brushing against his own. This time, it’s a bit more forceful, a little more passionate, a whole lot sexier, the Prince raising his hands to hold Tooru’s head in place, running his fingers through his hair, his skin hot against the Prince’s comparatively cool touch. 

He wasn’t expecting Prince Iwaizumi to kiss him like this, but it’s a welcome surprise. He was expecting an immediate flip onto his hands and knees and one hard thrust into his disgustingly leaking ass, but this? This is okay. This is nice. He feels a warm, wet tongue swipe against his lower lip, begging for entrance. Okay, this is kinda weird, but he doesn’t want to stop.

He parts his lips and lets Prince Iwaizumi take over his mouth, swirling his tongue around the foreign muscle. The tongue retreats, and he can feel Prince Iwaizumi chuckle against his lips, mumbling something to himself as he pulls Tooru back in. 

It takes everything, every shred, every fiber, every goddamn cell in Tooru’s body not to make a sound. Not with the Prince’s hands cupping his face, or pressing kisses on and around his mouth, down to his neck to suckle at his scent glands, or his hands moving down and- _oh._

_His hands moving down._

The Prince gives him an expectant but wary look, hands on the ties of his robe, and he assumes he’s waiting for him to remove his own robe for him. Right, he can’t be expected to do all the work, Tooru needs to put in the effort, too. He works to slip the robe off of himself, Prince Iwaizumi taking him in in the candlelight, biting his lower lip. 

He can’t tell if that’s good or bad, his heart throbbing at the notion that it’s bad. What if the Prince walks out right now? Would he get rejected before they even really start? Was he that ugly? Entirely hideous? Or was the Prince just now regretting choosing such a pitiful excuse for an omega? Oh god, it’s probably his slick, isn’t it. It’s awful. He’s disgusting.

Instead, Prince Iwaizumi drops his own robe, and Tooru’s eyes go straight down.

_Oh fuck._

Well, if all alphas were like that, then Tooru would have realized he was an omega a lot sooner. Not to say he himself was small, because he isn’t, another point for the beta column. But damn, he was nowhere near as well endowed and double damn, the damn Prince isn’t even fully hard.

The idea of such a pretty cock being used to fuck him so very deeply is enough to send a small gush of slick dripping down his thighs, Tooru biting his lip to keep the whine forming on his tongue from escaping. Fuck, he’s in too deep now. But Prince Iwaizumi isn’t nearly as deep as he needs to be. 

Tooru blushes at his own thoughts. No omega should be thinking of such lewd things. But then again, this was his job right? To make sure his alpha got so close to the edge that he was just raring to spill out into his omega? Maybe he should think of more lewd things.

The Prince catches him staring and he averts his eyes before the Prince lifts his chin again, forcing them to look at each other. He can smell his own slick in the room, mixing with the scent of tea and fresh honeysuckles. It’s a sinful combination, but Tooru can’t find a reason to be ashamed.

Prince Iwaizumi seems to think so too, running his hands down Tooru's body. Tooru bites his lip when the Prince touches his chest, flicking a finger over his left nipple. He looks up with a raised eyebrow, looking straight at Tooru, seemingly satisfied with the fact that Tooru is biting his lip, face flushed down to his neck. He does it again, and Tooru lets out a silent moan, his body shuddering under the Prince’s fingers. He would have scolded himself, but it was so quiet that he couldn’t possibly have gotten in trouble. Gods, he wants this, wants to be a good omega, so, so very bad.

Tooru looks down at Iwaizumi, looks up at his face, and then back down. He wants to touch him, wants to feel just how thick and heavy it is between his fingers and palm, but he hasn’t been told he can. 

As if the Prince could read minds, he slowly takes Tooru’s hand and places it on himself, Tooru immediately going to work. It takes all of five seconds for Prince Iwaizumi to finally take a seat on the bed, a blush spreading across his cheeks, Tooru’s hand pumping him without any rhythm. Everything is inexperienced, an awkward air starting to creep around them as Tooru starts to realize that this might be the Prince’s first time, as well. 

And if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, there’s a good chance the Prince doesn’t either. But that means Tooru is an entryway to pleasure for his alpha, and that’s all the more reason to do a good job. He smears his thumb over the slit and takes what he can into his palm to make his strokes smoother. Tooru has touched himself before, and although he is as pure as the white snow, well, until now, or maybe in his heats, he hopes he can get by with applying what he likes to someone else. If he can just find a rhythm, maybe Prince Iwaizumi will reward him.

The Prince lets out a small throaty moan as Tooru brushes against his flushed head, and he moves back to Tooru’s lips, sucking on them, running his tongue along his teeth, tongue licking into and across his roof, his gums, his own tongue. Tooru never expected his first time to be so… mouthy. So wet. So eager.

Prince Iwaizumi breaks away and breathes, saying something along the lines of “hull” or something similar. Tooru has no idea what it means, and continues pumping the delicious cock in his hands, wondering what it would be like to taste it, to taste the beads of precum leaking out of the slit, to run his tongue over every inch to mark it as his own. What it might feel like to make his alpha lose all restraint. The Prince chuckles and takes Tooru’s hands off of him, and Tooru’s stomach drops. 

So “hull” means stop, then.

The Prince looks him up and down, warily, almost hungrily, and gives the first order of the night, using words that Tooru finally (finally) understands.

“Hands and knees,” He speaks in his native tongue, with a few extra words before and after, but Tooru knows those three words enough to obey. It’s more of a question with some extra words than a command, but by the Gods will Tooru latch onto those three he knows his alpha will love.

And he’s well prepared, at least mentally, for this moment. He’s about to be taken, and the marriage will be official. He’s kinda proud of himself, not having messed up thus far. He buries his head into a pillow, ass shamelessly sticking up in the air, and the Prince moves behind him. He braces himself, feeling calloused hands traveling across his thighs and his ass, which he raises higher. And now, he’ll be mounted. He knows this. He’s been told this. He’s ready.

But then there’s a tongue lapping at his thighs, the plump skin of his cheeks, and he unintentionally sucks in a breath, shuddering at the sudden heat. Gods, this is obscene. No Shiratorizawa alpha would ever consider doing such a thing unless it was to give the highest reward to their omegas, but here he is, his dripping ass pressed up against his husband’s face, nose and tongue pressing back into him. 

“Okay?” The Prince retreats and asks him, in what might be one of the only Shiratorizawan words he knows. 

Tooru doesn’t know whether to answer or not, head still hazy in a frenzy to figure out what the hell he did to get spoiled like this. And alphas don’t ask questions during sex, or so he’s been told, and he has no idea what to do in this situation. He just nods, face burning bright red, and the Prince continues, working a finger in and out as he laps at the skin near his entrance.

Gods, the noises are disgusting, the squelch of slick, the sound of the Prince’s knuckles hitting against him as he moves his hand, the slurp of a warm tongue. He has to bite the pillow in an attempt not to moan, and the Prince himself makes a throaty sound when he runs his mouth along the source, sucking to draw as much as he can out of his omega. Shit, being silent is going to be harder than he thought. Whoever made the damn silence rule has obviously never felt this good. Another finger slips into him, an unfamiliar yet not to unfamiliar stretch consuming him. 

It isn’t until the third finger, however, that Tooru feels _it._

The Prince’s fingers angle downwards and push, and Tooru can’t hold it in anymore. He lets out a briefly shameless cry, his back arching in sheer pleasure, knees buckling with a quick flash of white. The Prince freezes, carefully aims, and presses into him again, and despite the restless, shaking pleasure shifting in his legs, Tooru holds his tongue. 

_He made a sound._

The very thing he was told not to do. And he had been doing so well up until now, even got the highest of compliments an alpha could give him. He did everything his alpha asked, and now? He broke the rule. 

And that means he’s not being good. 

He doesn’t even have time to think about the possible punishments before the fingers pull out of him, eliciting a small, terrified whimper from his throat. He just barely catches sight of the Prince as he cleans the fingers off with a quick swipe of his tongue, seemingly unbothered with Tooru’s blatant disobedience.

Oh dear gods (who hopefully aren’t watching him tonight), maybe he didn’t hear? 

No, it was a scream. He had _screamed._ Anyone in the entire fucking guest wing might have heard him.

Maybe the Prince just didn’t care?

Maybe his alpha was too preoccupied to care and he’ll face the consequences later. Maybe his alpha is already planning his punishment, because he is an alpha, after all. No alpha can possibly be different from the ones he’s met, right?

Maybe- fuck. There’s something touching his entrance. He stares ahead, wide eyed and completely pink, hands massaging at his hips and lower back. The Prince tells him something, which is probably something like “I’m entering now” or “relax” or “you screamed and I’m going to reject you”, and kisses along his spine. Tooru tries his best to open his legs up more, his hands grabbing at his thighs and spreading his cheeks further apart. He can fix this. The Prince is still moving forward with this, so this is good, right?

He hasn’t been rejected.

The Prince inches forward, Tooru instantly clenching around the head of his cock, and he cringes at the burn. Dear gods, this is so much different than his own fingers, or the Prince’s fingers, or even the heat toys that his parents had begrudgingly given him when his whining call for an alpha became too bothersome. It’s hot and it’s long and, fuck, it’s so goddamn _big._

But this is his first time. It’s meant to hurt, just a little. Maybe. He was told that it would hurt like a bitch but that’s why he drank the remedy earlier, slick still leaking out of him and dripping over the Prince’s shaft, but this… he only feels mildly uncomfortable. He just needs to smile through the burn, and the more his alpha uses him, the easier it’ll get. In a few weeks, this will be pleasant. Second nature.

Gods, he wants this, wants to be good, wants to fix his mistakes. Wants his body to take every inch like it was made for it. He wants to be a good omega, and if the goosebumps forming up and down his body is any indication, he wants Prince Iwaizumi.

The Prince inches closer and closer, Tooru readjusting his legs to take him better, the burn subsiding to a dull throb. Soon enough, the Prince’s hips are flush against his thighs, his hands rubbing small circles into his lower back like they had been before. He feels a tap on his thigh after a few seconds of hesitation, and he quickly nods, the Prince starting to move.

It’s magical, and fuck, he’s so damn full. 

Tooru can’t help it, he lets out another quiet moan, but the shallow test thrusts don’t stop, the Prince continuing to generously fuck into him. He bites his lip, tears welling up in his eyes. He broke the rule again. He’s being bad, and it’s going to end with him being given to a rut house, he just knows it. No one wants a used omega unless they were rutting and have no other option.

The thrusts get deeper, harder, and gods, more deliciously pleasant, and his legs start to tremble, unbearable heat coiling up in his stomach. He props himself up on his elbows, changing his angle, and the Prince thrusts into him at the same time, hitting him in that perfect spot.

Tooru throws his head back in pure ecstasy as he grabs onto a bundle of sheets, mouth hanging open in either awe or pure horror.

It’s breathy, needy, a moan quickly turning into a pleased whimper, but it’s _loud,_ and that’s why it’s so horrifying. There’s no coming back from that one, the Prince aims for the spot again, hands holding Tooru in place, his breaths turning into deep gasps, the Prince saying more things that Tooru can’t understand or obey. A hand reaches around and starts to stroke him, some of the hot pressure that had been creeping under his skin starting to fizzle out, replaced with something both better and worse. He gasps for air.

The tears break free from their dam and flow freely down his cheeks. He’s really done it now. Three times. Three times he’s made noise. His shoulders start to shake with his silent sob, the thrusts angled to hit that godforsaken spot again, and he breaks it a fourth time, pushing his head into the pillow, nails digging deep into the sheets. Fuck, he’s close, barely touched, too, and he’s not sure that he can go through it quietly.

Again, and he breaks it a fifth, but this time, it’s a strangled noise, followed by a sticky splatter just barely reaching his chest, slick gushing out as he clenches tightly around the Prince. He doesn’t even register the sound coming from his own body, it’s so sad and pitiful. The Prince stops, pulls out, and flips Tooru onto his back, the cum on the sheets smearing into his sweaty skin.

Then the Prince freezes. 

Tooru stares up with bleary eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks, using the back of his hand to cover his mouth, using his fingers as a muffler. The Prince’s face goes white, staring down at him like the worst thing has just happened, and pulls back to sit on his knees.

No, no, this can’t be happening. This… he’s stopping? No, he can’t stop, he hasn’t finished yet. Tooru might have finished once but he’s ready to go again, he can do it, he can be good. But the Prince, oh gods, the Prince. Tooru was too loud, he came without permission, he started crying, and now the Prince...

Tooru starts crying, and the Prince practically flies off the bed, quickly shrugging his robe back on as he stares at Tooru with widened eyes. Tooru reaches out for him, but it’s too late. The Prince is gone, the door to his bed chambers slamming behind him.

Tooru starts to shake, curling on his side, letting out a string of broken sobs.

_He’s been rejected._

\---

Iwaizumi hasn’t made too many mistakes in his life. He’s been a good friend, he’s been a fair leader, he listens to the people closest to him, he sought out a mate on his own, and he thought that they had shared a small spark when they were kneeling on the weird little pillows during the wedding ceremony that he had spent a week or so learning about on his way to Shiratorizawa.

He never expected to _ever_ make the mistake of hurting an omega so much that they would start crying and look at him with such broken fear.

“He was crying, Kuroo!” Iwaizumi paces around his right hand man’s room, tugging at his hair. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”

“Iwaizumi, it was his first time and you aren’t exactly… well let’s just say you’re a bit of a pain in the ass,” Kuroo motions to the skimpy robe that he’s been forced to wear as per Shiratorizawa tradition. 

Kuroo will never let him live this one down, him dressed like this. But that’s not what matters right now. What matters is that he has done the unspeakable, hurting an omega at their most vulnerable. Gods, he doesn’t speak the language. What if Tooru had said no when he asked if he really did want to go through with this? What if his husband had said he was hurt and he couldn’t understand? Does nodding mean something else in this country? Oh god what if nodding means no and everything was fucked up from the start.

“No, that wasn’t… this was real pain, Kuroo, and not just physical pain. He looked absolutely terrified of me!”

“But he was into it at first, right? He gave consent when you started. Let’s start with that.”

“I… I think so?” Iwaizumi stops pacing for a second, which calms Kuroo’s building anxiety, the words spiking the worry on his face. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean, I have no idea,” Iwaizumi takes a seat on Kuroo’s bed and lays on his back with a loud and frustrated groan, covering his face with his hands, the robe riding up enough for Kuroo to block the view with his hand. “I don’t think he speaks any of our language, and I don’t speak his. He barely made any indication that he was enjoying it other than a few moans, I mean, like, he barely made a sound the entire time, didn’t initiate anything… I knew that the omegas here were supposed to be more submissive, but damn…”

“You didn’t get that from the way they didn’t even call him by his full title the entire ceremony? You talked to Akaashi before we left, right?” Kuroo’s gaze turns a little more worried.

“Of course I did. He said that it’s tradition to consummate the marriage, which, first of all, is kinda fucked and degrading and not to mention severely outdated, and I was so embarrassed asking if he still wanted to consummate tonight instead of waiting until we got back,” He rambles on, stammering for an explanation. “And second of all, I wasn’t expecting something that submiss… Kuroo, he was crying!”

“I know, you’ve said it four times,” Kuroo sighs, his lips twitching into a frown. “Maybe it’s just a culture thing? I mean, yes, in our culture, crying is awful and isn’t a great sign, but maybe here it’s how they… show affection?” He’s grasping at straws, and Iwaizumi’s heart sinks further into his stomach.

“I fucked up, Kuroo,” Iwaizumi grabs his hair, pursing his lips. “He probably wanted to stop in the middle and I just… kept going, like an animal. He just smells so goddamn good, and I got kinda lost in it, and damn, I’m such a bad alpha! I fucked up so so bad!”

“Maybe, maybe not. When we get back home, we can have Akaashi translate and clear all of this up.”

“I wish we brought him,” Iwaizumi breathes, the burn of oncoming tears dotting his eyes.

“You know that he can’t travel after bonding.”

Iwaizumi lets out another loud groan, just to let it all out. 

“Maybe we can talk to that one alpha translator girl from the ceremony.”

“I didn’t like the way she smelled,” Iwaizumi scrunches up his nose. “I don't trust her. The alphas here smell aggressive. I can’t even smell the omegas, they’re all wearing collars. Tooru smells like flowers, god, he’s so perfect and here I go like a fucking animal and fucking take him without his fucking consent.”

“Okay, no, you don’t know that,” Kuroo stops him, the string of curses a sign that he’s growing more and more unstable. “He probably doesn’t hate you, just go back in there, and apologize.”

“Do you know the Shiratorizawa word for sorry?”

Kuroo’s face blanks, putting his fingers on his chin. “Maybe if you bow?”

Iwaizumi groans again.

“I don't want to go back in there, Kuroo, he’s probably terrified out of his mind. I can’t imagine him wanting the alpha that hurt him to come back.”

“But what if it _is_ a culture thing and you made it worse by leaving?” Kuroo tries to rationalize, but there’s slight doubt in his voice.

“Then you get to say you told me so.”

“As much as I love getting to say that, _Your Highness,_ you have a husband in there that you abandoned. This isn’t about me, or about what happened, but what you can do right now for him. Your husband, _and_ your future queen, must I remind you.”

Iwaizumi bites his lip.

“Can you go check on him?”

“What?” Kuroo squawks, lowering his hand and seeing too much. “Why me?”

“Because you’re not me, and you speak more of their language.”

“I can speak, like, two sentences more than you. I can ask where the library is and say that the house is red.”

“That’s still two things I can’t do.”

Kuroo groans.

“Fine, but if he attacks me because I’m an unfamiliar alpha, I’m blaming you.”

“If he can so much as scratch you, I will step down as Prince.”

“Is that a promise?” Kuroo stands up, trying to drag him out of his own bed, the sheets and air now smelling of god knows what. He doesn’t even want to know about the slight sheen around Iwaizumi’s mouth, but he has a few ideas. “Come with me. It’s your bed, your husband, your wedding night. At least sleep next to him. You never know, he might be waiting for you.”

“And if he hates me?”

“Then you change out of your weird ass little robe thing and take my bed. I’ll even trade carriages with Yahaba and Kyoutani so that I can watch over him myself on the ride home. I suggest that you ask the translator tomorrow, and then Akaashi later, and we can clear all of this up. I'm sure that you've done nothing wrong, and that this is just a culture thing, considering you know how to say no in his language and he didn't say it.”

The slightest bit of relief washes over Iwaizumi, and he nods, trying to work through the night in his head. He asked him if he wanted to go through with it, Tooru said yes, they got started, and he was eager to touch him, right? He's not reading that wrong? And when he had listed off positions they could try, knowing that the omega on their hands and knees is the traditional Shiratorizawa consummation position from Akaashi's quick lessons, he had presented to him without any hesitation. Maybe it _is_ a culture thing. Maybe he really didn't do anything wrong. Maybe he didn't fuck everything up. He breathes a little easier, and looks up at Kuroo.

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite general?”

“I could stand to hear it more,” Kuroo smiles, opening the door to his guest room. 

Luckily, the wing was guarded, not individual rooms, and no one had seen Iwaizumi leaving his own room and sneaking into Kuroo’s. Even luckier, their rooms are right next to each other, everyone else further down the hall, closer to the entrance.

He opens the doors to Iwaizumi’s room for him, the pair almost gagging at the lingering scent of an omega in distress. Well, fuck, this doesn’t help Iwaizumi’s case at all, the scent alone sending his rationalizations down the drain. Iwaizumi covers his nose and mouth with his increasingly warming hands and steps into the room, the smell of sex still clinging to the sheets despite some time having passed since he snuck out. 

This isn’t good, is it? 

Under the covers, Oikawa is balled up, hugging his knees, fast asleep but not without tear stained cheeks reflecting in the candlelight. Kuroo pulls the curtains back and opens the window, gasping for air.

“He’s asleep,” Iwaizumi goes over to Oikawa, looking down at his sleeping figure, the burn from his tears returning, his words becoming croaks. “I think he cried himself to sleep, Kuroo, I really did fuck up.”

Oikawa stirs a little, lips closing and parting again. Iwaizumi freezes at the movement, all of his muscles tensing up.

“These sheets are disgusting,” Kuroo whispers as he scrunches his nose up. “They expect you to just fuck and then sleep in the same sheets? God, this kingdom is twisted. Also, it stinks in here. What the fuck did you two do?”

Iwaizumi runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He can’t bring himself to answer.

“Did you, uh, well, um… finish?” Kuroo wags his finger between Iwaizumi and Oikawa, treading carefully.

“He did,” Iwaizumi sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “I was close.”

“Okay, didn’t need to know that, but you do know how omega consummations work, right?”

“How should I know? I was taught only about lighting my name on fire and drawing an x on his neck, I don’t know the specifics of something so barbaric and outdated.”

“Well, in my birth kingdom, it _was_ still a thing, albeit old fashioned, but someone will come to make sure that he’s been, uh, taken. So to speak.”

“Well, he has. I mean… fuck Kuroo, it was his first time and I made him cry,” Iwaizumi sits down on his side of the bed, holding his head in his hands. “He’s going to remember this forever and hate me. I’m awful. I’m a terrible alpha.”

Kuroo walks over to the sleeping man and inspects his face, Iwaizumi covering his own with his hands. He’s never felt so guilty in his life, his stomach in knots, his face and hands heating up in pure embarrassment and fear. _Fear._ Fear that his lifelong partner hates him, that his husband, his future queen, will remember this night every time they face each other again. 

“You know, he looks very different without the makeup,” Kuroo hums.

“He’s beautiful,” Iwaizumi says through his beading tears. “I told him that when I walked in, I was so shocked. He’s fucking perfect, Kuroo, he’s better than I ever could have imagined, and I fucked it all up. How am I going to explain why he hates me to my parents? The court? Hell, we leave at sunrise so we need to explain it to the traveling guards first.”

“You don’t need to tell them, Iwaizumi,” Kuroo begins, lowering his voice when Prince Oikawa shifts in his sleep. “Not until we know for sure that something happened. When we figure all this out, we can deal with the consequences. You may not have even done anything bad!”

“And what happens to him?” Iwaizumi motions to the sleeping omega in the bed, who hasn’t stirred once. God, he’s a deep sleeper.

“Maybe they’ll just think he’s yet another bratty Prince who didn’t want to get married, I don’t know, Iwaizumi,” Kuroo whisper-yells as he flaps his arms around, ending with a gesture towards the omega. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“But-”

“No buts except yours in the bed,” Kuroo walks over and pushes down on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pressing him into the mattress. “Now go to sleep, _Your Highness,_ ” Iwaizumi can see his shit eating grin in the sparse candlelight as he blows out the flame and exits the room.

Iwaizumi lays down, careful not to wake his sleeping husband next to him, staring straight up at the ceiling.

He doesn’t get much sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/oikawarights) if you wanna come scream at me


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa wakes up in a carriage, but he's not alone. 
> 
> Kindaichi tries his hand at bartering. 
> 
> Iwaizumi falls in love with wildflowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prefacing this with a short note! Yes, I did create two language systems for this, which serves as one of the main components of the misunderstandings part of the story, and their languages will be incorporated into each chapter. If the translation isn't already provided in the context of the story, I will include it in the end notes!

Oikawa wakes up three times before he’s fully awake.

The first, of course, is to the smell of an alpha, slowly opening his eyes in the dark to find himself curled up against a hot body, the scent of black tea bitter and almost overpowering. The smell of his own distress and filthied sheets lingers in the air, along with the scent of another alpha, which makes him scrunch up his face in confusion.

He stares at the sleeping alpha, _his alpha,_ retracting the hand he has clinging to the Prince’s chest. Gods, when did he do that? When did the Prince return?

 _Why_ did the Prince return? Hadn’t he been rejected?

It doesn’t take long for him to start worrying even more, dread building in the back of his throat, but the alpha’s arm coils around him and holds him closer, Oikawa barely able to make out his sleeping figure in the dark of the guest room. The alpha’s chest rises and falls peacefully, and Oikawa breathes in unison, taking in the scent. 

It lulls him back to sleep, half-drunk on pheromones.

The second time's a lot less pleasant, the covers ripped off of his very naked lower half, legs spread by cold hands and colder fingers probing him as he lays on his stomach. He sucks in a sharp breath, and if it weren’t for the Prince standing next to the bed, he might have thought he was being taken again.

Which wouldn’t be the worst thing, if he’s being honest with himself. It would mean that the Prince has decided to give him another shot, another chance to prove himself as a good omega, and after last night that’s all he wants to do, to prove that he’s worth keeping as a future King’s omega. But it’s a beta’s cold fingers prodding around him, not Prince Iwaizumi’s, not with the gentle care that had worked him open mere hours ago, and these fingers feel more than just invasive.

“They definitely consummated, the marriage is valid, but I see no traces of semen,” The beta who had checked his virginity status’s voice calls out from behind him. “Ask the Prince what happened. If he’s been rejected, the Prince should see to his punishment on his own.”

The fingers pull out of him and the covers are gracelessly replaced, the beta’s face reading like he’s just touched filth, wiping his hand on a towel. The translator asks the Prince a simple question, and whatever the Prince says next makes him turn red, obviously caught off guard by it. He answers shakily, nervously, and Oikawa just barely manages to flip himself around before the translator’s face twists from disgust into completely emotionless.

“Says he finished in the omega’s mouth. Seems that the omega was good for him,” She breathes, shaking her head at Oikawa in disbelief. “Give him the serum.”

A drink is promptly shoved down his throat, hand over his mouth forcing him to swallow. His body tries to fight it against his better judgement, the liquid bitter and his stomach growling for food, but he swallows it, knowing it’s what’ll make his alpha’s life easier, and he wants to be good. He needs to make sure that he’s not going to end up in some Seijoh rut house. 

The Prince makes a movement to protest the action, his words forceful and horrified, but the translator holds him back, trying to say something that sounds either reassuring or some half-assed excuse. He barely has time to question why the Prince lied about finishing before he’s drifting heavily back to sleep.

The third time, the final time, he slowly opens his eyes, his body groggily swaying, to the sound of carriage wheels and the clomping of hooves rather than the sound of birds he’s used to. The light is bright, harsh on his eyes, and he squints to accommodate.

His head hurts, like his brain exploded and pieced itself back together, the motion not making it any better. His mouth is dry and bitter, and the memory of being drugged briefly flashes in his mind as he realizes that he’s in a carriage.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye to his parents.

A hand rests on his clothed thigh, large but pale and slender. He tries to move his head, but it’s too heavy, the light seeping through the carriage too harsh, so he just trembles.

“Wehv’e drewi,” The voice next to him softly notes.

Another voice across from him snorts. 

“Rejei.”

“Hey, you okay?” The first voice rigidly asks, the words barely pronounced as it forms around his native language, and Oikawa barely lifts his head enough to look at the brunette man sitting next to him. 

He sniffs the air, his own scent mixing with whatever scent is coming from outside, but this man is producing a steady wave of thick vanilla, the scent barely overwhelming and leaning more towards comforting. It’s nice, the vanilla unlike any of the vanilla he’s smelled before. It’s hard to grow vanilla in Shiratorizawa, and wherever they import it from isn’t nearly as perfect at growing vanilla as how rich and full this omega smells.

It calms his nerves, and his head starts to clear, even if he’s still a little heavy and rough around the edges.

He blinks, but he’s not confident both eyelids move in unison. The light is too harsh, too loud. Can light be loud? Well, it is right now. Right, he was drugged, of course he’s going to be in pain. He groans and lifts his fingers to massage his temples, covering his eyes.

He sits there for a second before realizing that not only is there an omega scent in the carriage, but the deep musky scent of an alpha, something like a forest on fire. His eyes snap open, and he fights the agonizing burn as he takes in the alpha sitting across from him. 

Blond hair cut incredibly short, black lines drawn above the tips of his ears and around the back of his head. He scrambles to bow, face heating up at the fact that he had not greeted the alpha first.

He’s been bad again, and he deserves punishment.

“Kev esk weh-” The alpha starts, voice laced with angry confusion.

“Shh,” The omega hushes him, and Oikawa sits up, avoiding looking at the alpha directly. 

Has the Prince given him to another alpha? Is that to be his punishment? But he’s been used, no one would want him now. Gods, this means he’s on track to end up in the rut house, fated to be a many someone else’s whore until the day he dies. 

The thought makes him sick, but he deserves it. He broke the sound rule not once, not twice, but _five_ times. If he can’t follow such simple rules, how will he ever make an alpha happy?

The omega pokes Oikawa, and motions to himself.

“Yahaba,” He points to the alpha. “Kyoutani.”

Oikawa’s mouth dries further beyond he’s ever experienced before, and he gawks at the omega. Did he just? No. Yes? Yes, he did. He just introduced the alpha, not the other way around. His lips purse, and he sinks into himself, staring down at his lap, picking at the skin around his fingernails. If the alpha is going to punish the omega, he’d rather not look.

“Kyoutani,” The omega says, and Oikawa bites his lip.

“Re?” The alpha asks, and Oikawa’s nerves start to weave themselves into knots. 

“Hal Iwaizumi-sam ro Kuroo-sa e Oikawa-sam esk drewi. Sek hull.”

“Re, Yahaba-sa,” The alpha nods, turning his head to look out of the window. 

The words are ugly, the language of Seijoh a muddled mess of rough consonants. He’ll be expected to learn it, though, so he soaks in as much of the tone and the context clues as he can. Wait, did the omega just use the same suffix to address both him and the Prince? No, he couldn’t have. It must not be a suffix, then. Basic grammar. He shouldn’t flatter himself like this.

He glances out of the window and watches the fields of Shiratorizawa roll out before him, endless fields of flowers covering almost every inch of landscape, sparkling lakes covering everything else. 

“Wow,” He breathes, staring at the beauty of his own kingdom. He hasn’t been outside the walls since he presented, and the castle gardens he cared for had nothing on the vast vibrancy his land held.

Former land, he reminds himself.

Would Seijoh have fields like this? Would he be able to see flowers, or tend to a castle garden? Would the lakes sparkle the same way they do in the countryside? He’s never even been this far out, hadn’t seen his own land, even when he was Prince. 

A worthless prince to the very end.

He feels Yahaba frowning at him, and he turns away. Maybe he isn’t supposed to look at the kingdom, or maybe he wasn’t supposed to speak just then. Yahaba says something, his voice low, sad, watching Oikawa try to sneak glances at the countryside. Kyoutani makes some sort of remark, arms crossed over his chest.

They continue talking, and Oikawa just sits properly, back straight, hands in his lap, eyes focused on the scenery to his right. It’s so beautiful, the way the sun catches on the water of the lakes they pass. It must be midday, considering the position of the sun, and it brightens the landscape, the sunflowers dancing softly in the breeze.

He misses going out this far, getting to see his own country. It’s been four years since he was able to leave the castle, let alone go out into the countryside. There’s more flowers than he remembers, the hills and valleys roll and the lakes sparkle in the distance. It’s entirely gorgeous, and he wants nothing more than to take some flowers with him in hopes that they remind him of home.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before the carriages pull to a stop, going onto a side road that loops back onto the main road, but has a small open-doored house and a place for the horses to feed, drink, and rest. 

As soon as the carriage stops, the alpha Kyoutani opens the door, holding his hand out as Yahaba ducks out, stretching his legs. Oikawa hadn’t noticed before, but they’re dressed differently to how they had been dressed at the ceremony yesterday, although the fabric of their clothing is still brighter than the neutral greys, browns, blacks, and greens that Oikawa is used to. What’s more is that Yahaba is wearing pants, the same as Kyoutani, the fabric fit yet loose to aid in his movement, flowing with the shape of his body like it had been tailored to his body. Oikawa also takes note of the dagger hanging in its sheath at Yahaba’s side.

Had that been on his hip the entire time? Someone let their omega carry a dagger? How strange.

He looks back at the bright reds, blues, purples, and whites of the shirts of the men and women walking past the window of his carriage, all eyes shooting it a curious glance as they do what they need to while the carriages are stopped. He looks down at his lap.

He himself is dressed in an emerald green robe, black flowers embroidered on the hem of the sleeves and around his waist. He doesn’t remember putting it on, remembers being very naked when he was given the serum that knocked him out, but he’s sure that with the matching black fabric cinching his waist, his mother had something to do with it.

Kyoutani holds his hand out for Oikawa, eyes beating down at him with a piercing, unamused gaze, and Oikawa stares. What the hell does that gesture mean? Is he asking for his hand? For an item he doesn’t have? Gods, has he already messed up? It doesn’t help that the alpha looks angry with him.

Yahaba slaps Kyoutani’s hand away, mutters something under his breath with a shake of his head, and looks up at Oikawa, gesturing with his head to exit the carriage. Oikawa carefully grabs Yahaba’s hand and ducks out of the carriage, and, oh. Yahaba is taller than he expected, both omegas standing taller than Kyoutani, who doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, instead of escorting them to where they need to be or so much as looking at them, Kyoutani is immediately heading off to another carriage.

Yahaba turns to Oikawa and offers a reassuring smile, pointing to a bench for them to sit in front of the house, which Oikawa can now tell is a store the closer he gets. The signs read that feed for horses is free, and he breathes a little easier, hoping that the traveling Seijoh group have paid for their accommodations on their way over.

But with this many alphas and betas, looking around and finding himself to be only one of four or so omegas, he has full confidence in the fact that they’ve managed to get through the Kingdoms just fine.

Oikawa takes in the people around the three carriages. Almost everyone, no, truly everyone, is wearing pants, loose fitting clothing, and variations of leather boots, unlike Oikawa’s tight emerald robe and sandals. Everyone has some kind of weapon, whether it be a dagger, a sword, or some other kind of handheld weapon. 

Not to mention that he can’t tell who’s a servant, who’s a stagecoach, and who’s a noble based on clothing like he usually can, his elegant robe a sure sign that he’s a high-ranking alpha’s omega. But looking at Seijoh, he can only tell the guards apart from everyone else because they’re wearing light armor. 

He looks at Yahaba, wondering what he is. His clothing doesn’t seem to set him apart other than the waistband full of sacks of various coins, but he’s in the carriages, and not on horseback outside the three carriages like the rest of the travelers, so he must belong to a noble. Which means Kyoutani is a noble and he hadn’t addressed him first.

What a way to make an impression. How embarrassing.

The first carriage door opens, and a dark haired man exits, eyes surveying the area, landing on Oikawa. Oikawa shivers at the familiar just-after-rain scent that’s carried with the breeze, and his entire body goes stone cold when Prince Iwaizumi exits behind him. And gods, he looks more divine than he did the previous day, his outfit more suited to his body than the traditional Shiratorizawan matrimony robes, sword by his side. 

He truly looks like a Prince, and Oikawa frowns down at his own outfit, a constricting but beautiful dress for your average, traditional omega. He is no Prince. Just a future heir’s mother.

Kyoutani approaches them, far enough that the conversation is entirely incoherent, not that he would understand anyways. He looks down at his lap, and his hands start to tremble. They’re probably talking about his transfer from one alpha to the other, and his belonging to Kyoutani will be made official.

“Pardon,” A voice says above him, and he looks up, locking eyes with an armored alpha with hair that reminds him of a turnip. Interesting. “We need…” He trails off, trying to find the words. “Help your in store speaking?”

It’s far from perfect Shiratorizawan, but he understands it well enough. Why would they need his help? Does no one speak his language? No, they wouldn’t bother with something like that. The alphas don’t know the language well, he’s figured that much from being in the carriage, only catching a few words that could be cognates with the Karasuno language, and their omegas would know less. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Yahaba says something, and the alpha tries again.

“Need we in your help speaking store?”

Gods, it’s gotten worse. Okay, they need him to translate, but what can he do? He’s only an omega, and the store owners won’t sell anything to him anyways. He probably can’t even get in if it weren’t for the alpha offering to escort him in. But he can’t risk angering the alphas by not helping. 

He stands up and gods, this is the first alpha from Seijoh he’s met that’s taller than him. He was starting to worry that he would throw out his back bowing so low as to dip lower than every alpha’s head when greeting them. He bows to the alpha, much to the alpha’s surprise, and walks with him to the store. He looks over at his shoulder at the Prince, who watches his every move with those piercing green eyes.

He shivers, remembering how those eyes had looked the night before, hungry and wanting for _him_ , and snaps his head forward, entering the doors of the store. That’s not something he’ll ever experience again, and those eyes were for his omega, not for him. He looks around the shop, can’t feel anything hanging in the air, and bows his head to the beta at the counter. The alpha next to him follows suit, and Oikawa has to bite his tongue.

The beta looks equally shocked, and bows her head to the alpha, the alpha walking over to where the store keeps food supplies, pointing to the sign.

“Kev esk?”

Oikawa can only assume he’s asking what it is.

“Pork,” He answers, but the alpha doesn't look like he knows what Oikawa’s talking about. “Um, oink?” The alpha nods, albeit a little amused. “Five azu per unit,” Oikawa holds up five fingers, rubbing his fingers together to symbolize money.

The beta behind the counter snorts, and the hair on Oikawa’s hair stands on end.

“Do you always speak to alphas this way? Patronizing him with animal noises like the bitch you are?” The beta asks, Oikawa turning to face the older woman. “I would have thought the rotten omega bastard of the King and Queen would have learned better manners.”

“He does not speak the language, I apologize if I sounded rude,” He bows his head, his cheeks starting to heat up. It was wrong of him to do that, but it’s not like he knew any other way to answer to the alpha. This is on him.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me, royal whore,” She spits, and Oikawa nods, red creeping up his neck. “I no longer bow down to you, nor do I bow down to an omega.”

Oikawa faces the alpha and bows down lower, almost about to get on his knees to show his deepest, most sincere regrets.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you so casually.”

But the entire situation is lost on the alpha, his eyes moving around the scene in utter confusion as he tries to decipher the conversation, and Yahaba peeks his head in.

“Atavish sik?”

“Hey,” The beta woman angrily taps a sign on the counter that reads that no omegas can enter without an alpha accompanying them. “It reeks of omega in here, get out, both of you, it’s bad for business.”

Yahaba enters anyway and pulls money out of his pocket, handing it to the alpha in the room. 

“Kindaichi-sa,” He passes him a handful of azu from one of his pouches. “Nela azu?”

“I said,” The beta stands up from her counter and walks up to the three of them. “I said to get your omegan asses out of here.”

She makes a grab for Yahaba’s head, but Oikawa’s feet move on his own and he throws himself in front, almost pushing Yahaba over. The woman grabs a large fistful of his hair and marches to the door, dragging him behind her like a sack of flour. He stumbles forward, crying out in pain as his head throbs with her tight grasp, and she throws him out, Oikawa losing his balance and landing on his stomach in the dirt.

“I am so sorry, ma’am, please take pity on them, as they are foreigners,” Oikawa swivels around and sits on his knees, pressing his palms and forehead to the loose dirt. “Please allow him to leave with the alpha peacefully.”

He stays there, waiting for her response, whether it be verbal or physical, but nothing ever comes. He slowly starts to raise himself, and his head hits something hard and metallic. He looks up, the sharpened blade of a longsword above his head, pointed directly at the woman.

The beta woman is pale where she stands, shocked silent. Oikawa looks to his left and right. It’s not just one sword, but _every_ sword pointed at her. Behind him, everyone, servant and coachman, noble and guard, has some kind of weapon pointed at her.

Yahaba and Kindaichi exit the shop, eyes widened. 

“Tooru,” A voice commands, and Oikawa looks at the owner of the longsword above him, two large hands gripped around the hilt, eyes traveling up the muscled arms, to the narrowed gaze. _Prince Iwaizumi._ “Off your knees.”

This isn’t the situation he was expecting to hear those words, but he’s glad that he understands, thanking the gods he was taught how to get on and off different body parts. He quickly rises to his feet, and the Prince wraps a strong hand around him, his narrowed eyes never leaving the beta in the doorway. He lowers his sword slowly, and everyone eases, taking hostile steps back as their leader steps down.

“Thank you,” He whispers into his alpha’s shirt, the alpha freezing up.

His alpha had stood up for him, defended him. Wanted to protect him. He can only imagine that a damaged _and_ rejected omega won’t do him any good. For him, or for anyone he’s given to. Protect the goods to resell or reuse. That’s the only explanation, otherwise an alpha would never come to his aid. Still, this warmth, the warmth and the smell of tea leaves, it warms him. Calms him.

Iwaizumi smells safe.

“Kuroo, tokweh.” Prince Iwaizumi passes him off to the dark-haired alpha that had been in the first carriage with him, and the alpha gingerly grasps Oikawa’s shoulders, guiding him back to a different carriage than the one he had woken up in. 

Prince Iwaizumi starts commanding everyone, people rushing to get the horses back to the carriages, Yahaba shoving the azu back in the pouch, and Kyoutani escorts him back to his own carriage. 

The new alpha, Kuroo, helps him back into the carriage, Oikawa taking a seat in the corner, pressed against the side to make sure the alpha has enough space for his legs. The alpha frowns, but it isn’t at him, no, it’s more pointed, more in thought. He mutters something to himself, barely a whisper under his breath, and takes his own seat across from him. 

Soon enough, the horses are attached to the carriages, and Kindaichi and Prince Iwaizumi are climbing in, Prince Iwaizumi next to Oikawa, and Kindaichi next to Kuroo.

Oikawa tries to make sense of their roles. Kuroo seems to be one of his most trusted men, maybe his lead general? Looking at the alpha’s longsword, (and no innuendo intended), he seems to be in good standing. Kindaichi must be one of the guards, with the way he has more than just one weapon, wearing light armor over his clothes.

He’s in a small space with three alphas. Gods, no amount of training could prepare him for this. Usually he’s just thrown out, his omegan status tainting the air that alphas breathe. At least, that’s the reason he was told as he was thrown out. Is he producing pheromones? Can they breathe with him in here? Is he disgusting? He certainly feels like it, covered in dirt and smelling like stress over whether or not they’ll throw him out of the carriage.

It doesn’t help that all eyes are on him, and he can feel their searing gaze, watching, surveying, analyzing. They strike up a conversation, and Oikawa can feel the pit in his stomach grow with every use of his name.

He stares out of the window as they start to move again, watching the sunflowers pass, hoping that Seijoh looks like home.

\---

All Iwaizumi wanted to do was give Oikawa space. He put him in a carriage with Yahaba, an omegan noble of the treasury court that had wanted to come and witness a foreign wedding, as well as his alpha assistant, in hopes that he would realize that omegas held power in Seijoh. He wants to give him space from himself, because he can only assume that after all the shit that’s gone down in the past twelve or so hours, Oikawa won’t want to even look at him.

But he wants to know how his husband is doing, how he might be fitting in with Yahaba, but now is certainly not a good time. Oikawa needs space, doesn’t need him, and all in all, he hasn’t even seen much of Oikawa since they were, well, _together._

He gave him space when the first incident had happened, fleeing the bedroom out of fear he had hurt Oikawa, out of fear that Oikawa was in pain and their language barrier had caused some miscommunication, and certainly out of fear that Oikawa had regretted giving himself to him.

He gave him space when Oikawa had woken up in the middle of the night, realized that he was curled up next to him. He didn’t seem too distressed, the initial panic melting away when Iwaizumi had pulled him in closer and calmly pretended to be asleep until Oikawa was lulled back to his deep slumber. 

And he certainly gave him space when the beta and translator had knocked on his door, saying they needed to confirm the consummation.

He’s never been so embarrassed, coming up with such a fake story as he did telling someone that he had basically cummed in his husband’s mouth after fucking him. He’s never been so flustered, so panicked to say whatever came to mind, and he was sure that they would have caught his lie. But it seemed to satisfy them enough, and they accepted it as a viable answer. 

He doesn’t even _want_ to know the implications he had accidentally set up for himself.

But as sure as he was that he was free from the hell that is Shiratorizawa and that he had the space to work things out with Oikawa, swallowing his pride to ask the translator for help, Oikawa was forced a sleeping draught that knocked him out so that “he would be easier to load into the carriages”. Loaded up like he was some sort of luggage, something to be handled and knocked around like he’s worth nothing more than some of the extra vegetables they had picked up in town. They had even asked if they should put him on horseback with “the other omegas”. 

He’ll never forget their shock when he said that Oikawa would be put into one of the carriages, not on a horse or even walking with the other guards. 

It leaves his mouth wholly bitter, the way this forsaken kingdom treats omegas, treats their _Prince_. He had a taste, literally and metaphorically, of it the night before, but he never expected _this._

“Akaashi was right. This place is a goddamn nightmare,” Iwaizumi mumbles, looking at the beautiful landscapes of Shiratorizawa, thinking about how he had been fooled by the beauty on the way in. “I really wish we brought him and Bokuto. At least then we’d have more than just a combined total of one hundred words or so of knowledge of his language.”

He wants to talk to him, not only to work through what happened last night, so that he can know why Oikawa was crying so he can never make him cry again, to apologize, but to also tell him that he’ll be free. He deserves to know that he’s not going to yet another royal hell. 

Hopefully he can figure it out on his own seeing Yahaba and the other omegas. 

“We can last two weeks without knowing exactly what he’s saying,” Kuroo reassures him, following his gaze outside. “Gods, look at these flowers and lakes! Gorgeous…” He meets Iwaizumi’s hard stare. “You know, for a nightmare kingdom.”

“We should start a campaign to plant more flowers,” Iwaizumi agrees, taking in the bright yellows of the sunflowers and the deep red of a field of tulips. “And to care for the fields we have.”

“I’ll be sure to make note of it, Your Highness.”

The only time Kuroo addresses him properly and without a hint of sarcasm is in the presence of others, although Kindaichi is someone that they could drop their guard around. He was top of his class during training, and is very promising as a future general. Not to mention he could spare a month away from home, no mate to be detached from or rut to deal with during the trip, which is the main reason he’s here.

Two weeks in the carriages, one night in the castle, and then an impromptu shortening of eleven days back, just to get the hell out of Shiratorizawa. 

“There’s a place to stop and rest for a short while,” Kindaichi looks over the map in his hands. “We should be coming up on it in a bit. About ten more miles beyond that and there’s a camp where we can set up for the night, as well. And oh! There’s one of the hot spring bath houses there, too.”

“Tell the coachmen, then,” Iwaizumi nods. “As eager as I am to get back home, we shouldn’t overwork the horses.”

“Good idea, my Prince,” Kuroo gives him a small smile and sticks his head out of the window, letting the guard trotting next to the carriage to let the coachman in front know of the plan.

About an hour later, they’re stopping on a side road, a simple house open to the public, a sign out front reading what they quickly learned means “free”, at least, in the two stops they made in the Shiratorizawa kingdom so far. Kuroo makes motions to get out, but Iwaizumi pulls him back.

“Kindaichi, why don’t you go see if you can buy something to cook tonight? I’m sure that our long-term protein supplies might not be enough for the remainder of our journey. I think we only have enough for tonight and tomorrow night.”

“What about money?” He asks, which is a fair question, since he’s not usually in charge of buying things. But this is Shiratorizawa, and he has a sneaking suspicion that the omegas and betas that usually run these kinds of errands might run into issues.

“Yahaba is in charge of all the kingdoms’ currencies.”

“Yes, my Prince,” He nods, getting out of the carriage.

He makes a motion to follow Kindaichi out, but Kuroo sticks his leg out, blocking his path. He clears his throat, and Iwaizumi flops back down into his seat, grabbing his sword off the ground and resting it in his lap.

“Wanna talk about last night again?” Kuroo questions, raising an eyebrow. “Now that turnip head is gone?”

“No, well, yes, but not that. They…” He licks his lips. “They drugged him this morning, and he didn’t do a damn thing to stop them,” Iwaizumi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have so many fears for when we get back to Seijoh.”

Kuroo hums, tapping his chin with his index fingers, “Can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you choose him? I mean, no offense intended, but why choose an omega so far away and from such a different culture when you could have taken anyone from the neighboring kingdoms? I heard that the Prince of Karasuno just swooped up and took that other omega you had your eye on. What was his name? The small ginger one.”

“I didn’t have my eye on him,” Iwaizumi scowls. His father had an eye on him for him, but he had bigger eyes for the Oikawa family, someone he could see himself cherishing for the rest of his life, given Oikawa had a likeable personality. “But when they sent out the marriage offers for Oikawa, they listed his physical attributes. A tall omegan Prince, most likely trained to be a general? He seemed… perfect for me. For Seijoh.”

“And?”

“I think if I went and handed him a sword, he’d cry.”

Kuroo clicks his tongue, “That’s not good, you know. We did his country’s rituals, but he’ll have to go through ours. If he can’t survive the Seijoh mating rituals, then he certainly won’t survive his coronation. The country won’t accept such a weak queen.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi frowns. “I think everyone who came on this trip will understand his weakness, though, seeing where he’s from first hand. Hopefully. He has potential to be a great queen, we just need to give him a little… push. It’s what’ll happen when we get home that I worry about.”

“I wish we listened better to Akaashi,” Kuroo frowns, attaching the sword to his belt as he puts his hand on the door. “He told us that Shiratorizawa omegas would submit to anyone, and I thought I knew what to expect,” He pushes the door open and ducks out, landing on his feet. “But this is just… too weird.”

Iwaizumi lets out a short breath of agreement before he exits the carriage, stretching his legs, watching his crew hustle and bustle to get the horses fed and watered, taking inventory of what they have, making sure everything it ready to set up the camp for the night when they arrive. He goes to scan the area for Oikawa, but Kyoutani approaches them before he gets the chance.

“Sir Yahaba wanted me to let you know that Prince Oikawa is awake. He was a little disoriented at first, but he’s otherwise fine.”

Relief crackles within him, and he nods.

“Good, good, how was he in the carriages?”

“A little strange, Your Highness, but probably fine. He’s just been watching us pass by fields with this stunned look on his face.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi puts his hands on his hips and looks around, a field of sunflowers to their right. “We really should start a campaign. Imagine if we added more flowers like this, we’d be golden.”

Kuroo stifles a chuckle, looking at the amazement on Iwaizumi’s face, and Kyoutani is dismissed, going back to his master for orders on what to do. 

“At least he’s awake,” Iwaizumi sighs, heading over to the horses with Kuroo, Kuroo helping an omega guard untangle a beta from the reigns he’s managed to get caught in. “I don’t know what the hell they drugged him with, but whatever it was knocked him out pretty fast.”

“I can’t believe they would do such a thing,” Kuroo helps the beta guide the horse to the water trough. “How did, uh, how did he dress himself if they knocked him out?”

“His mom came in and basically kicked me out, telling me it wasn’t an alpha’s place to see an omega like that unless I was ‘using’ them,” Iwaizumi huffs, Kuroo’s face scrunching up in disgust at the wording. “But he does look nice, doesn’t he?”

They both turn to look at Oikawa as he stands up, smoothing out his elegant robe as he bows to Kindaichi, following him inside the shop. 

“You’re whipped, my good Prince,” Kuroo teases, pulling him aside for semi-privacy. “Although, there is something to be said about all of this. I don’t think he hates you. Scared of you? Maybe. But I think he’s scared of all alphas.”

“So, last night?” Iwaizumi begins, the guilt returning to his stomach.

“You know I can’t speak about what he thinks, or what you think, or what happened because thankfully, by the smell of your sheets, I wasn’t there. But the way he was looking at you when you exited the carriage? I really don’t think he hates you.”

“What do you mean ‘the way he was looking at me’?” Iwaizumi’s brow furrows.

Kuroo gives him a flat look.

“Dude,” Kuroo sighs. “Really?”

“What?” Iwaizumi raises his eyebrow. “What is it? Is there something on my shirt-”

A loud crash sounds from the doorway of the house, Iwaizumi turning his head just in time to see Oikawa get thrown into the dirt by an older woman, his movements turning frantic.

“Oh my god,” Kuroo sucks in a breath, hand already moving for his sword.

“Ero erem serei, Zeala, rai,” Oikawa speaks his native tongue, pleading for something, getting up on his hands. Iwaizumi’s breath hitches, his voice not anything like he expected. Sure, he’s heard the latter moan and gasp, scream in pleasure and lightly snore, but he’s never heard him _speak_ before. He sounds… beautiful. Just like the rest of him. Oikawa presses his forehead into the dirt, and Iwaizumi’s legs finally unglue from the ground, making a dash to the door. “Rai furel et aam alpha lesselde.”

Iwaizumi draws his sword, in a way he knows will come across as a warning, a signal to his troop to join in, and to hold. His sword is over Oikawa’s bowed head, his eyes glaring at the beta woman. She looks on in shock as everyone nearby mirrors their leader, waiting for a command.

His heart is pounding in his chest, blood roaring in his ears. He’ll be damned if he lets anyone touch his omega like this, and he has the means to enforce that.

His… omega… 

Oikawa slowly raises his head from beneath the blade, Iwaizumi’s eyes dropping to his husband’s figure, suddenly aware of the pound of his heart against his chest, a pull to react to Oikawa’s endangerment. His head softly knocks against his blade, and his entire body tenses as he looks around, color draining from his face as Yahana and Kindaichi exit the store.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi commands, everything in him screaming to protect his omega, protect this defenseless man at his feet, dirt pressed into his forehead, over his robe, dirtied even more by the supposed slander of the woman. He doesn’t care that he’s just addressed an unmated omega by his first name, it’s all he can think to say, the smell of wilted flowers filling out the air. “Off your knees.”

Oikawa wastes no time standing up, curling into the arm Iwaizumi wraps around him. How he knew what he said, Iwaizumi has no idea, but something tells him this is definitely not the time to question it. He just pulls the taller man into him, holding him tight, as if letting go would cause him to crumble. He’s safe. 

_”Thank you,”_ Oikawa whispers in his native language, one of the only things Iwaizumi can actually understand. 

He stops himself from widening his eyes.

The first thing Oikawa has ever said directly to him. And it’s gratuity. 

Iwaizumi’s chest swells, alpha pride taking the lead. Maybe Oikawa didn’t hate him after all. Maybe this is a sign that everything is okay. They can make it two weeks with limited communication. This is a good start, Oikawa probably trusts him now, if even just a little bit.

He lowers his sword, and everyone stands down, the beta woman staggering backwards in her shock.

“Kuroo, take him,” Iwaizumi orders, and Kuroo promptly removes Oikawa from his arms and leads him back to the carriage. He looks behind the beta, his body remaining rigid, ready to strike. “Yahaba, you okay? What happened?”

“She tried to grab me,” Yahaba points to the beta woman. “Prince Oikawa threw himself in front of me and she grabbed him instead. He saved me.”

“Kindaichi, your story?” Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at the woman, trying not to let the anger boiling in his stomach get to him.

“He was helping me translate, then she started yelling at him and made him bow, and completely lost it when Yahaba entered.”

“Are the horses ready to travel?” He puts his sword away, his gaze never leaving that of the beta’s. He’s intimidating and he knows it, wants it. Wants her to fear what might have happened if she had done worse. 

“We can get them ready, Your Highness,” Someone answers quickly, the air growing thick with his festering unease.

“We’ll take our business elsewhere, then, this is no place worth our time,” He turns away, rolls his shoulders as he slides his sword back into its sheath. He barely takes a step before everyone gives a shout of understanding, the frenzy of getting everything ready to travel again breaking out. He looks to his left, his posture softening. “Yahaba, you okay?”

“I’m fine, Prince Iwaizumi,” He straightens out his clothes. “I think we can handle things out here, you should go check on Prince Oikawa. I cannot believe that a commoner would treat someone of his status this way.”

Iwaizumi sneaks a glance at Oikawa as Kuroo helps him into the carriage, his heart falling into his stomach. The way he fell to his knees, the apology… Was he used to this? It doesn’t surprise him one bit, the idea that he’s been faced with such prejudice. 

Even a Prince is lower than a commoner here if they’re an omega. 

The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and he turns to face Yahaba.

“This country is twisted, certainly not a place for omegas. I hate to say it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if they treat their crown Prince like this, they’ll be less than kind to other omegas. I forbid all omegas in our party to go anywhere without an alpha, at least until we reach Dateko’s borders. I’d hate to give such a discriminatory rule, but it’s for the safety of everyone.”

“I’ll be sure to relay the message, my Prince,” Yahaba nods. “Now, please go check on him, he must be shaken up after something like that, especially someone like him who may not be used to it.”

Iwaizumi nods, but something deep within him says that he’ll probably find an unshaken Oikawa waiting for him. Everyone is making quick work of getting the horses ready to travel, and he gets back into his own carriage, Oikawa pushed into the corner, Kuroo where he was before. 

He takes a seat next to Oikawa, who looks down in his lap, Kindaichi crawling in next to Kuroo. He looks up and studies the three of them before looking out of the window as the carriages start to move. 

“He’s stressed,” Kuroo says simply, hands folded in his lap, looking at the omega who’s turned away from the three of them.

It’s not hard to miss the faint scent of wilting flowers in such a small space, but it’s there nonetheless, and it breaks Iwaizumi’s heart. His body is unfazed, not even so much as a tremble, but his scent, even if it is faint, gives him away. He’s stressed, terrified, and what’s worse is that he’s probably used to this kind of treatment.

“If this was Seijoh, she’d be imprisoned,” Iwaizumi says through gritted teeth.

“This isn’t Seijoh,” Kuroo lets out a breath. “Thankfully, we’re going somewhere much better. I can’t fathom that someone would do that to a Prince.”

“Maybe they didn’t know he was a Prince?” Kindaichi speaks up, unsure of his own words. “But then again, it was still awful. All I did was ask him what kind of meat they had for sale, and he didn’t know the word, so he made a pig noise… it was innocent, and he’s trying his best to connect. She went off on him for it.”

Iwaizumi sighs. 

“I can’t wait to get out of here. Pass into Dateko, then to Karasuno.”

Kuroo’s eyes light up at the mention of Karasuno. “Speaking of which, we’ve made arrangements to pass through the castle, the King has allowed us to stay in the castle for as long as we need to rest and recuperate. I think it’ll be best to take him up on the offer and stay at least one night. Especially because they’ve been asking about how Daichi and Suga have settled in.”

Iwaizumi nods.

“What are we going to do about him, though?” He nods his head towards Oikawa, who has taken to blankly staring at the flowers, lost in the beauty of his own kingdom like it’s his first time seeing it. It probably is. “Should we start training him so that he has some chance of impressing people at the coronation trial training?”

Kuroo taps his lips in thought. “First of all, I think training him for the mating rituals is top priority, since you can’t take the throne without a mate,” Iwaizumi’s heart sinks, some of the hope he has of taking the throne on time starting to flicker out of existence. “Second of all, we don’t have much to train with. We could have him pick up a sword, but we can’t do much to train him without speaking his language. We can try, though, I see the same potential in him as you do.”

Iwaizumi hums in agreement.

“I think we should really reconsider how we approach this. I mean, he just gave into that attack, and last night…” His eyes drift to Kindaichi. “I figured the wedding was a show of submission, as well. We should assume that he’s just super submissive, and can’t think for himself. I hate to say it, but after witnessing how he was raised? I don’t doubt it.”

“What do you have in mind, Sir?” Kuroo leans into his palm, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“Let him adjust to traveling with us for a few days. Maybe until we pass into Dateko. Keep him close to other omegas. I think he’s uncomfortable being surrounded by alphas and betas.”

“Like right now?” Kuroo says blandly, and Iwaizumi registers that there are three alphas and one omega that’s scared of alphas. He didn’t think this through. He usually doesn’t have to think about everyone’s alignments when he walks into a room, but this trip has made him painfully aware of the fact that he is an alpha. 

Especially when it comes to Oikawa.

“Dammit.”

“I think it’ll be fine, I mean, you’re here, right?” Kuroo tries to reason. “You saved him from that beta, that’s gotta be worth some extra points, yeah?”

Iwaizumi taps his chin, “I mean, maybe.”

“And maybe dinner will be better, show him the Seijoh tradition of bonding over a meal.”

Iwaizumi nods, a small smile forming on his lips, knowing that if there’s anything that could bring people together, it’s a meal. And there’s nothing he could think of that could prevent Oikawa from fitting in during a Seijoh dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Carriage Ride with Yahaba and Kyoutani - Seijoh language  
> "Wehv'e drewi" - "He's awake"  
> "Rejei" - "Barely"  
> "Kev esk weh" - "What is he"  
> "Hal Iwaizumi-sam ro Kuroo-sa e Oikawa-sam esk drewi. Sek hull." - "Tell Prince Iwaizumi and Sir Kuroo that Prince Oikawa is awake. Next stop."  
> "Re" - "Yes"
> 
> In the store with Kindaichi - Seijoh language  
> "Atavish sik?" - "Is everything okay (in here)"  
> "Nela azu?" - "(do) you need azu?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa struggles with a new tool.
> 
> Iwaizumi gets more than just a bath.
> 
> Oikawa learns more about the Seijoh language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday! Sorry for the long end notes, there was a lot to translate!

Oikawa doesn’t feel better by the time they stop for the night at a campsite, most of the workers moving to set up tents while others care for the horses. Prince Iwaizumi himself helps set up the biggest tent with the help of Kuroo, the two of them laughing and joking around, the Prince’s eyes never quite leaving him as he works. 

It’s his muscles, mainly. And how they move. It’s curious, and Oikawa isn’t looking solely because he’s interested, seen those muscles in such a different manner, but also because there’s an immense sense of grace to his movements, everything calculated and Oikawa knows that everything moves with purpose.

Purpose. Something that he’s been struggling to find ever since accepting his fate. He brings nothing to the Prince, and even less to the group, sitting down on one of the wooden benches that’s been set up around the campfire. 

Oikawa feels absolutely useless, watching everyone else move around and work their asses off just to set everything up while they have daylight. Even his fellow omegas are carrying their own weight, feeding the horses and giving them water, starting to cook their meal, and sharing in the laughter and lightness that the Seijoh group seem to carry themselves with.

Gods, how he wishes he could understand just a little sliver of what everyone was saying. Just enough to get the jokes they make, or enough to make someone else smile. He hadn’t thought much about the carriage ride home, having been told that it would be two or so weeks of catering to his alpha.

But his alpha doesn’t need to be catered to in that way, and a deep sense of fear settles into his heart. Does the Prince really not want to use him? Or is the Prince just waiting it out so that he’s in the most pristine condition before he’s sold off or gifted to a new alpha?

All the alphas he knows, except maybe Ushijima, would love to have their own omega to use and fill to their hearts’ content, but as he looks around at everyone, it doesn’t seem like _any_ of the Seijoh alphas hold the same beliefs. 

So either he’s freaking out over nothing, or these alphas just don’t have their own omegas. And he has yet to see an omega with a bond mark, so the second option seems more than likely. All alphas, except Ushijima, he knows that for sure, are the same, so why would his be any different? 

But at the same time, it hurts that his alpha _doesn’t_ want to use him. 

He’d always been told that it was his only job, his sole purpose in life, and what use is he to a kingdom if his alpha won’t try to produce an heir? If by some miracle, he hasn’t been rejected, what more is there for him when he finally gets to his new home? Just sit and look pretty? Spend his days sewing for the children he doesn’t have, spend time in a garden that may or may not exist?

He doesn’t _know_ how to do anything else.

And it’s not like there are too many omegas here he could observe, most of the travelers are betas, with three or four omegas other than himself and a small handful of alphas. He shivers as a breeze sweeps through the treetops, carrying the scent of the dinner he’s never heard of, his hair grossly matted and his robes somewhat uncomfortable, his body only barely having been cleaned from the night before.

He just wants to eat and then have a bath, and from the looks of the rather well-kept signs along the road, there’s a bathhouse a little ways away into the trees. In addition to their troop, which has set up a little further away from the entrance, there are a few other travelers, who have all been gawking at the posh carriages as they set up their own camps.

He shifts in his robes, his legs stuck together with his own undried slick. And it’s gross. He’s gross. His hair is unbrushed and greasy, the waistband on his robe is disheveled and loosely tied, and his legs stick together with the serum’s residual slick, which continues to trickle out at random moments that make him squirm. It’s absolutely disgusting, and even though he’s experienced this before, this level of grossness, it’s only ever been during his heats, and he was able to immediately scrub himself clean when he was back in his own mind.

He watches as Prince Iwaizumi wipes sweat from his brow, resting his hands on his hips as he turns to the other alpha and asks a question. Oikawa stares at his back, the fabric swishing around his frame, and he feels another small gush escape him. He freezes, both alphas also freezing up, and he internally cringes at how bad he must smell to make alphas wince at his faint scent. Kuroo blinks at the Prince, and then responds, his eyes flickering over to Oikawa. Prince Iwaizumi turns and starts walking over, the other alpha following close behind. 

Oikawa bows his head in respect, and doesn’t raise it. He hasn’t been addressed yet, and it would be rude to make eye contact with someone so many levels above him. 

“Do you… uh…” Kuroo speaks, trailing off as he tries to find the words, “Where is the water house?”

Oikawa looks up, looking at the alpha’s nose, not his eyes, in slight confusion. Water house? Does he mean bath house? Or somewhere to get water? Because there’s a bath house, but there’s also a store, and he wants to be able to answer the question correctly, for his own sake.

The Prince mumbles something, and Kuroo tries again. “Water, uh,” He mimes washing his arms, and Oikawa quickly nods, pointing to the bath house that’s further into the trees.

“Bath house,” He supplies, and Kuroo repeats it, nodding. 

“You to eat?” Kuroo choppily asks, his face twisting in his attempt to form a sentence. “One? Bath house two?”

Oikawa nods, and Kuroo turns his head to announce something to the rest of the group, everyone nodding and starting to move over to the fire pit. Iwaizumi holds his hand out, and Oikawa carefully takes it, standing up and letting himself be led away from where vegetables and meat have started to char beautifully, rice steaming in a giant metal pot. 

His stomach growls angrily, his mouth starting to water at the sight. He had gotten a small snack to eat during a break from the carriage while alone with Prince Iwaizumi, but smelling this now makes everything else seem like a dream. He practically drools, and the Prince chuckles next to him, the sound reverberating through his chest and out into the air.

Oikawa looks at the groups that break up and gather to eat, counting the alignments he’s managed to figure out, and another anxiety starts to build deep in his stomach, right next to his blooming hunger.

_There’s too many alphas in the circle that Prince Iwaizumi is leading him to._

His feet start to drag into the dirt, and he frantically looks for an area for omegas to eat, since it’s very, _very_ taboo for an omega to dine unless there’s more omegas and betas than alphas or at least an equal amount. The group to his right has one omega and one beta, another has two betas and an alpha, the one near the fire has two omegas and a beta, another with all betas.

Then there’s the Prince, Kuroo, Kindaichi, and Kyoutani, and the only omega is Yahaba, who is sitting cross-legged and laughing as Kyoutani spills something on his clothes. He bites the inside of his cheek, and his legs begin to tremble.

It’s scandalous for an omega to dine among this many alphas. 

And it might be okay in his husband’s culture, as Yahaba doesn’t seem to mind being surrounded by alphas, but Oikawa just can’t do it. He won’t be able to eat if he’s sat down among this many alphas, his anxiety starting to consume him. 

Prince Iwaizumi sits him down, and he stares ahead, his mouth unbelievably dry. He swallows thickly, his throat scratchy, and his hands start to shake. 

“Whoa,” He can feel Kuroo’s eyes on him. “Weh’ve yel?”

“Ke…” The Prince begins, his hand hovering over Oikawa but not quite touching him. He seems to notice the shake of his hand, and recoils.

“Oikawa-sam,” Kuroo starts, and Oikawa barely raises his head, making weak eye contact with the alpha. “You are… okay?”

“Omega,” He mumbles, motioning solemnly to himself, repeating it as he motions to Yahaba. He holds up two fingers, and then holds up two more. “Alpha,” He motions at the rest of the group.

The group stares at him, confusion starting to build. He drops his hand into his lap, his lip worrying between his teeth. He’s starving, but he can’t eat in the presence of so many alphas. He just can’t. He hasn’t once in his life dined among alphas as an omega other than his own father.

“Meve alpha,” Yahaba considers, looking around at the group. He snaps his fingers in his realization, eyes brightening as they fall onto Oikawa. “Akaashi tolke neles meve omega u alpha ket vior eeh.”

Whatever he said seems to wash over the group, and Kindaichi and Kyoutani stand up, moving over to another group of betas guards. They hover, just for a second, and as Oikawa looks around, he notices that their group is in the middle, protecting the small patch of grass and wooden benches that the Prince occupies.

But despite being surrounded, it’s a breath of fresh air, and all of the anxiety leaves Oikawa’s body like someone’s reached into his very being and plucked it out with their fingers. His stomach calls out hungrily, and he looks down at the bowl of food that’s brought to him.

His anxiety kicks back up when he sees only one utensil, and it certainly isn’t chopsticks. 

It’s a weird looking sort of thing, but then again, he might have seen it before in the Karasuno kingdom. It’s a flatter kind of stick with a dipping curve and four little prongs at the end. It’s surprisingly heavy in his hand, very much unlike the forged metal or sanded wooden chopsticks he’s used to. His heart deflates as he watches Prince Iwaizumi use it with one hand with the skill of an expert, stabbing at the meat and vegetables and scooping up rice with the side before bringing it to his mouth.

He tries to hold it like he would a single chopstick, but it’s awkward in his hand. He goes to stab the meat like the others are doing, but the utensil slips out of his hand and clatters into the bowl, his face starting to heat up as he quickly picks it up and tries again. He manages to grab the utensil in his fist, but it feels even more awkward than before and it’s most definitely wrong. 

By now, the other three people in the group have caught on to his lack of skill, and watch as he stabs a piece of meat with the damn thing only to have it slide off the end and plop back down onto his rice. He frowns down at his food, and a throat clears next to his right. 

He looks up, and sees Prince Iwaizumi holding a bite of rice on his own utensil, holding it out at mouth level. Oikawa stares at it, eyes flickering between the food and Prince Iwaizumi, his features starting to go from hopeful and fond to something more worried and concerned. He’s waiting for something, and Oikawa isn’t sure what.

“To eat,” Kuroo supplies, and Oikawa looks at the utensil once again. 

Does the Prince expect him to eat his own food? This was from the Prince’s bowl, does he really have the warrant to eat something of that caliber? It might be the same food, but this is food fit for a royal, this single bite on the weird pronged utensil belonging to the Prince himself. He couldn’t imagine eating something like this, but it would be rude to go against the wishes of his alpha. He opens up his mouth expectantly, staring up at the alpha with compliant eyes, and the Prince goes a little pink before sticking the metal thing into his mouth. Oikawa’s lips close around it, steam tickling the roof of his mouth, and he slides it back out.

And it’s… pretty normal. The meat is charred and tough from having been on the fire too long, salty from its preservation, and the rice is painfully bland, but it’s also somehow the best thing he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t eaten much since before the wedding, or maybe it’s because it had been off of the Prince’s utensil, but it tastes absolutely amazing. He gives a small noise of approval, and looks down at his own dish, trying his hand again at using the pronged thing.

It’s hard to hold the damn thing correctly. His first few bites of food fall off before he can get anywhere remotely near his mouth, the next few falling back into the bowl as soon as he’s able to bring his shaking hand up to his face, and by the time everyone’s pretty much done eating, he’s managed to get a few bites in.

“Wehv’e nish bei,” Kuroo speaks into his food, eyes looking up at Oikawa. “Esk e fork. Esk faev koue.”

“Weh nel tov, Kuroo-ku,” Prince Iwaizumi returns.

Oikawa watches them talk, takes note of how there’s a small air of relaxation between them. He knows that Kuroo is his right hand man, but they seem personally close as well. Oikawa used to have Ushijima as a right hand hand, the latter being the son of his father’s general, but as soon as he presented, he was given a beta handmaiden, and the two of them haven’t talked much in years except to arrange their possible engagement.

Oikawa had tried to strike up a conversation with the handmaiden sometimes, just so that things would feel a little less lonely, but she thought it would be better not to be so familiar with an omega, for her own reputation. But that wasn’t her fault, Oikawa hadn't ever wanted to talk to the omega servants when he had been alpha or beta-passing, and there was no need to. He understands it completely.

Still, it was a little lonely at times. Always had been. 

“Oikawa-sam,” Yahaba speaks up, and Oikawa turns his attention to the other omega, who passes him a small notebook and a quill with an attached ink vial. He taps the empty pages, a sentence reading “Kwesa te skrie?”

Yahaba points to each word, faltering on the first, ultimately opting to move on to the next, pointing at Oikawa and saying the word. Alright, “te” means “you”, good to know. He points to the third, and mimics writing things out, Oikawa nodding along as he swallows his food. He can only assume that this is asking if he’s able to write, given that question marks still mean the same thing across the languages. 

“Ero qualde,” He nods, confirming that he can write. 

Yahaba repeats the phrase, and passes it to Oikawa, nodding for him to write. He does, and raises his head, looking at the group of people staring back at him. He takes the notebook, flipping through the previous notes, and Yahaba quickly runs through simple phrases, acting them out and Oikawa translating, trying his best to soak in as much of the language as he can.

It’s in his best interest to learn it, just to follow Prince Iwaizumi’s orders easily. And it’s not too different from other languages he’s studied, a few of the words coming before Yahaba points them out, most of his guesses coming true. 

He finishes his meal, and Prince Iwaizumi stands up after a short conversation with Kuroo, Kuroo calling over some of the guards. He looks down at Oikawa, hands on his hips, his eyes a little tired, “Go to bath?”

\---

The bathhouse, like Iwaizumi had expected, is separated between alpha, beta, and omega. He shakes his head at the thought, at the idea that whatever lies behind those last few doors is something awful, something disgusting and unkempt. He knows that Oikawa knows it too, and yet the man takes a step towards it without a moment’s hesitation.

“Oikawa,” He says, the word feeling strange after having called him Tooru earlier in the heat of the moment while saving him from the beta. 

But they’re not bonded, they haven’t gone through the steps of becoming familiar through Seijoh customs, and they haven’t earned each other’s first names yet. He’s embarrassed he called Oikawa by his first name in front of his entire troop, but in his rage, it was all he could think to call him. “With me.”

Oikawa’s head goes from the omega section back to Iwaizumi, chewing the inside of his cheek like it’s tearing him apart on the inside. His neck is red as it heats up, he shivers like he’s cold, and he ultimately steps towards Iwaizumi, bowing his head in what Iwaizumi has since learned to mean respect.

The guards exit the alpha’s bathhouse and give him a short nod to confirm that it’s empty, and flank the door as they enter. He looks around at the interior as they enter, and despite the location being at a campsite, nothing about it is dirty. Everything, the clothing cubbies, the pool, and every bowl, seat, and pipe is carved out of stone, metal, or well-kept wood, the water steams peacefully, and the room smells of fresh cut flowers, much like the countryside fields they had passed by.

He finds an empty cubby to put his clothes in, and Oikawa follows him like some sort of child, his apparent discomfort growing the longer he looks around the alphas’ room. He puts his spare change of night clothes, which seems to be a nightgown as opposed to Iwaizumi’s pants and robe that he’ll take off before sleeping anyways, into the cubby next to his, and starts to undress.

And it’s not like they haven’t seen each other naked before, not like they haven’t seen every intimate part of each other, touched and tasted even more, but something about it feels inherently wrong, like he’s not supposed to lay eyes on something so delicate. 

He can’t deny that Oikawa is beautiful, something that he only could have hoped for when the description had come to him advertising an omega Prince of his build and height. The first time he saw his husband-to-be walking down the aisle, in full makeup and dress, everything else had faded away, had rendered him speechless. 

He can’t ever deny that Oikawa is beautiful, and he’s terrified of ruining that with his own two hands even more than he already has.

Oikawa’s robe slips past his shoulders when Iwaizumi realizes he’s been staring, and he starts to slide his shirt over his head. He catches a glimpse of Oikawa’s lean back, shoulder blades poking out of his skin when he moves, just like they had moved the night before. Iwaizumi swallows hard and averts his gaze, but not missing the short flicker of Oikawa’s eyes towards him as his robe fully unties.

He can’t deny that Oikawa is beautiful, and he also can’t deny that he’s entirely sexy, too. 

And he’s been with a few omegas before, the Seijoh regency laws not stopping him from choosing a court omega to spend his ruts with if he so chooses, everything entirely consensual and premeditated and carefully planned so as to not end up with a bonded court omega or an accidental heir. 

But no one’s gotten into his head like this, the smell of the fresh cut flowers in the room nearly matching Oikawa’s natural scent, everything mingling into something he’s only ever known to be erotic. He hates it. He hates that he’s becoming an alpha driven by his instincts, because he’s only ever been a leader first, a Prince second, and an alpha third.

He chokes down the feeling, chokes down the stirring heat in his core, and finishes getting undressed, quickly moving to rinse himself off and quickly wash up with a bar of milk soap before getting into the main pool. He dips a foot into the water before stepping fully in, wading across the pool to sit on one of the carved stone seats. It’s nice on his muscles, getting to soak and relax after the stress of traveling and his own wedding, but the heat, the steam, and the scent combined are a little more than dizzying. Especially when Oikawa fully drops his robe, bending over in one motion to pick it up from the floor, folding it before putting it neatly in the cubby. 

And damn, Iwaizumi feels disgusting for wanting him, for seeing his husband’s naked body and getting filled with a sick pride knowing that he’s the only one that gets to lay a hand on him. 

It feels even worse knowing that he’s the only one that’s ever touched Oikawa, and that Oikawa had spent the better part of the previous night crying and most certainly in pain. Pain brought on by Iwaizumi’s own selfish actions.

Selfish actions that only build as Iwaizumi tries not to look, tries not to watch Oikawa rinse himself with water, hands running over his body as he scrubs away the sweat and dried slick he hadn’t been cleaned of. His movements are delicate as his fingers brush over his own skin, pressing his hair back with his chin raised to the stream of water that cascades over him. Suds trickle from his hair down the curve of his body, and Iwaizumi shakes off the thoughts, becoming increasingly aware of the smell of black tea that’s starting to permeate through the room.

And he’s kinda turned on watching his husband work his hands over his body, hearing him sigh in short satisfaction as he rids himself of the day’s worries and travels with a bit of water. 

Oikawa’s hands cover himself as he walks over to the edge of the bath, eyes scanning over the water as if he’s deciding something, his attention falling onto Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi’s heart sinks into his stomach when he sees the purple bruises starting to form on Oikawa’s knees from where he had been tossed out of the store, but if they bother him, he doesn’t show it. Oikawa bites his lip again, the way he always does when he’s worried, and steps in until he’s waist deep, trudging over to where Iwaizumi sits. 

He looks embarrassed, his eyes never raising from the surface, focused on the ripples he causes as he walks. He walks slowly as well, like a funeral march, and when he finally reaches Iwaizumi, he takes a seat on the stone next to him, hands folded underwater in his lap like he’s waiting to be told what to do.

He’s always waiting. 

That’s something Iwaizumi has quickly taken note of. He’s always just _waiting_ to be told what to do, waiting for someone else to take charge, waiting for an alpha, _his_ alpha, to give him an order. Like he doesn’t have a mind of his own.

It hurts him, just because he knows that the Seijoh mating ceremony and queen’s coronation will eat him alive if he can’t think for himself. 

It’s Seijoh tradition, and it always has been, for the King to rule over the people, to make all the decisions for the Kingdom, to be a voice of the people, but the Queen? The Queen rules over the court. The Queen and King both rule over all military operations, everything first passing through the Queen and later onto the King. 

If Oikawa cannot think for himself, cannot hold a sword and prove his worth, cannot oversee military training with the other generals on their table of operations, he will never be accepted by the people. He will never be a good Queen.

And it fills him with fear.

When he becomes King in the winter, Oikawa will have to earn his own title, go through his own series of challenges in order to show the entire Kingdom that he can support them, that he can be a great leader worthy of standing by the Queen. And before that, before Iwaizumi can take the throne, they’ll have to be bonded, or at least planning to be bonded, and that within itself is a feat.

Because in order to prove himself worthy of mating a Prince, he has to beat Iwaizumi in a duel. 

And looking at him now, Oikawa sitting with his hands folded in his lap, head bowed and staring ahead, Iwaizumi isn’t sure he’ll ever have a mate. 

He hates to say it, hates to see someone and presume things based on their secondary gender because he’s grown up around so many strong omegas, knows strong omegas and weak alphas and betas that could throw him over their head, but Oikawa isn’t a Seijoh omega. He’s not even worthy of an honorary title like the Karasuno-born Sugawara has, who earned his title as a Seijoh omega within a week of arriving when he was able to beat Bokuto with a one handed sword and the stupidest, most borderline sadistic smile on his face.

He sinks into the water, watching as Oikawa sits stiller, properly, taking in the steam and the heat of the bath without so much as a relaxed smile. Instead, he keeps sneaking glances at Iwaizumi’s lower body, so much so that Iwaizumi almost has the mind to cover himself up, realizing too late that his earlier glimpses at Oikawa’s back has left him half hard, but his fears and anxiety are quickly doing away with it.

It’s embarrassing, but Oikawa doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he doesn't seem bothered in the least, eyes trailing up and down Iwaizumi’s body. And he’s waiting.

_He’s waiting._

The realization washes over him and he quickly takes to scrubbing his body, turning away from Oikawa as to not seem like he wants anything. Shit, Oikawa’s face is almost blank, and what he does show looks a little worried, now that he’s getting flustered and turning away.

So he _is_ still worried, he _is_ still scared of him. Maybe not outwardly, but they haven’t been alone like this since last night, and Iwaizumi had chalked all of that worry up to being in an unfamiliar carriage, being away from home, or from being surrounded by alphas. Hell, a beta threw him out of a store earlier, and that could have shaken him up, too.

But no, here he is, still showing that same worry when they’re alone, stone still and rigidly waiting like he’s scared Iwaizumi will make a move on him. 

He really did fuck up, didn’t he?

He decides the bath isn’t as relaxing as it should be, hoping that others can get more out of it than he can tonight. Iwaizumi sinks under the water’s surface for one last soak, holding his breath for as long as he can, just to let everything disappear in the heat of the water.

It’s been a sweaty, grimy trip, and there’s not many campsites or bath houses like this. He’s lucky he was able to shower before the wedding, because traveling with pounds of armor and sitting in a hot carriage all day doesn’t do great things for how someone smells. Especially when it’s spent boxed in with two other alphas, Kindaichi’s thick cherrywood scent mixing with Kuroo’s scent, (the one no one can quite identify, but it certainly reminds everyone of the courtyard garden after it rains), doing nothing to help him smell any less muddled and unwashed. 

He resurfaces, and other than the quick splash of his breach and gasp for air, there’s some yelling coming from outside. He shakes away the water from his hair, wet strands slapping against his face as he runs his hands through it to keep it slicked back, Oikawa looking at the door with an expression full of regret. 

“Omega hae rem wit!”

“Sir, you cannot enter,” One of his guards says as if the man understands. “Our Prince and his husband are in there, you cannot enter until they come back out-”

“Ero Ze nimelde erel umei, Zeal omega otilaa-”

“Kuroo!” The guard calls for backup, and Iwaizumi almost jumps out of the water to find out what’s going on, stopping when he looks at Oikawa.

Oikawa frantically looks around for something, his eyes fixating on Iwaizumi with a gaze so determined yet hesitant it seems almost calculated. Iwaizumi barely has time to think before Oikawa climbs into his lap, holding his head between his hands, and takes his lips with his own. Deep heat spreads across his cheeks, and he grabs Oikawa’s shoulders to push him away as Oikawa grinds down against him, deepening the kiss. The burning in his core ignites, and Oikawa slowly sinks onto him, eyes clenching shut as he winces at the stretch.

“What the hell are you-” Iwaizumi groans as heat envelops him, Oikawa starting to shallowly move without so much as any prep or warning. 

Tears form in the corners of his eyes and he softly sobs, curling into Iwaizumi like he’s writhing in pain. The door swings open, a very angry looking alpha stumbling into the room as his eyes find Oikawa in his lap, bleary eyed, fuzzy around the edges, and entirely vulnerable. Oikawa whimpers into Iwaizumi, utterly helpless and pathetic, and Iwaizumi stares, dumbstruck, trying to make sense of everything that’s just happened. Kuroo follows the man in, looking at Iwaizumi with an equally shocked expression, turning on his heel to face the wall.

The alpha sniffs the air and quickly composes himself, “Ero erem serei. Rai, tezeldaa.”

He bows his head and ducks out of the room, muttering something to himself, and Oikawa starts sobbing, Kuroo turning beet red as he shields his eyes.

“May I ask what the _fuck_ you’re doing, Your Highness?”

“He just climbed on me,” Iwaizumi defends, trying to get Oikawa off of him as carefully as he can, Oikawa still tightly clenched around him. “Fuck, what happened outside?”

“The owner of the bath house saw you take an omega in here and got pissed,” Kuroo tries to look anywhere other than Oikawa being gingerly lifted off of Iwaizumi’s dick. “But why are you, uh, I mean, you were so worried last night about-”

“He climbed on me as soon as the guard outside started yelling,” Iwaizumi says through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the intrusive throbbing that starts to develop. “Practically fucking impaled himself, what the fuck just happened?”

“Ero erem serei,” Oikawa sputters for a response, bowing his head to Iwaizumi so low that his forehead dips into the water. “Serei, serei, alpha. Serei, Zeal Iwaizumi.”

He knows that word. It had been in his apology to the beta, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Oikawa is giving him the deepest, most sincere apology that has ever left his lips. He continues his string of tearful apologies, and Kuroo speaks up.

“Hey, Iwa,” Kuroo’s tone turns serious. “Do you think he got on you because he knew that that alpha would have thrown him out into the dirt naked and in front of everyone if he wasn’t getting… uh, for lack of a better word, fucked?”

Iwaizumi holds his tongue, looking Oikawa up and down as he stays bowed, waiting for Iwaizumi to either say something or punish him. His heart deflates entirely at the prospect that Oikawa would have expected a punishment, and he presses a palm to his head. “Kuroo, I think I hate it here.”

“You and me both, my good Prince,” Kuroo starts stepping backwards towards the door. “So, uh, should I tell everyone to sneak Yahaba and the other omegas in here? Because oof, we went into the omega one to check it out and it is… not nearly as nice as this. Beta one is pretty decent.”

“Everyone deserves a nice bath,” Iwaizumi confirms, and Kuroo hikes up a thumb, announcing loudly to everyone outside that they have to either distract the angry alpha and sneak everyone in or wait a few days for a hot bath, followed by a chorus of laughter.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, raising his hand to rest it on his shoulder at the same time Oikawa lifts his head, Iwaizumi making contact with his cheek.

He pulls his hand back, and Oikawa wipes the tears from his eyes, taking in a short breath as he tries to calm himself. 

Iwaizumi isn’t sure what to do. He’s hurt Oikawa again, even if it had been unintentional. Not to mention Oikawa had been in immense pain when he had gotten on him. Was he in that much pain last night? 

The two of them get out of the pool, Oikawa wincing as he quickly gets dressed, the fabric indeed a nightgown that reaches his mid-calf, his feet fit into a pair of sandals. Iwaizumi dries himself off and puts on his own clothes, tying the robe around his body and sliding on a pair of slippers. 

Did Oikawa really act in his own interest? Use Iwaizumi as a way to save himself from getting thrown out? He can’t think of any other excuse for Oikawa’s actions, and if he had planned this, if he had created such a plan in so little time, knowing that it would have hurt but knowing that it would succeed…

Maybe Iwaizumi misjudged him.

It wasn’t a _good_ solution, nor was it a solution Iwaizumi was prepared for, his lower half both throbbing _and_ pained from being shoved inside of Oikawa, and from the way Oikawa winces, he’s not faring much better. But it was a solution that worked, and one much quicker than Iwaizumi could ever have come up with.

They exit the bath house together, Kuroo talking to the alpha owner as all of the omegas in their troops slip past them, Kyoutani, Kindaichi, and a few other beta stagecoaches and guards keeping them shielded, everyone else heading splitting up into the alpha and beta rooms.

Oikawa peels away from Iwaizumi’s side and walks up to the man.

“Ero erem serei aat Zer baatthus higralae,” He bows, apologizing for something about the bath house. “Rai Ze Plaz reelaa em Zem reelaa haat Tooru Ze hiraitae, em Zem Ze azumie kompli,” His bow falters as he mentions the palace and money, and goes lower. “Ero lit Ze omilde kamsalmi lit erelmis.”

“Num serei,” The man snorts, waving him off. “Ero Zee nerolie umwei. Em e et er alpha mantulae,” He points at Iwaizumi, who narrows his eyes at the man, trying to read him for movements that might hurt the omega, but the man only seems to be scolding him. “E erom hazelae num hiraits. E wit er alpha yeelo em e erelo omega be, er alpha hipaza wit e yalde.”

“Hrei, Zeal!” Oikawa announces, bowing his head and turning on his heel, looking something rather pleased and relieved as opposed to his normal aura of, well, _anxiety._

Iwaizumi’s eyes drift to Kuroo, and he points over his shoulder at the man with a look that reads “should I hit him with a stick”, and Iwaizumi shakes his head. Kuroo nods and tucks his spare clothes under his arm, promptly walking into the beta bath house, knowing full well that the Prince had just been doing indecent things in the alpha one.

Oikawa returns to his side and Iwaizumi leads him to their tent in the center of the campgrounds, the one that he had set up himself. He holds the flap up for Oikawa and Oikawa ducks in, looking around the small interior with the highest amount of curiosity. His eyes go from the small bags of luggage that contain their clothing, at the recently lit lamp next to their bed, and at the bed itself, which is more of a futon with a little extra padding.

He’s traveled a lot before, and while there’s inns to stay in for the most amount of comfort, there have always been nights where they’ve had to stop at campsites like this, set up tents and futons, and cook over an open fire rather than buy out an entire pub and make sure everyone eats to their hearts’ content.

Setting up the tent is exhausting, traveling even more so, and even though his body is still stirring from Oikawa’s heat rocking around him, from the remaining tingle of his lips and his cheeks from where he had been kissed, the exhaustion wins out.

“You want to go to bed?” He asks tiredly, unsure of what Oikawa understands and what he doesn’t. He seems to know all things revolving around the bedroom, so this should be a safe bet, right? A simple request to sleep.

“Yes,” Oikawa answers softly yet eagerly, neatly sliding off his shoes and kneeling down on the futon. 

Iwaizumi takes a few steps around to his side before he sees Oikawa making movements in the dim light of the room, and he turns his head just in time to see Oikawa hike his nightgown up around his hips, looking up at Iwaizumi with the most innocent pair of eyes he’s ever seen. He shifts on the covers, palms flat against the sheets between his thighs. 

And he waits.

Iwaizumi gives a little sigh, mostly at himself for stupidly hoping that Oikawa would take going to bed to mean actually going to sleep, leans in, and presses a soft kiss against Oikawa’s forehead. “Not tonight.”

It’s a whisper of a promise, soft and sure, and he pulls back the covers, crawling under them. Oikawa stares over him, slightly confused, but he follows Iwaizumi’s lead and pulls his nightgown down, peels the covers back, and slips under. Iwaizumi fluffs his pillow a bit and lays on his back, Oikawa laying on his side facing away from him.

He’s exhausted, extremely so, but he can’t seem to get tired enough to sleep, especially with Oikawa’s anxious, bitter scent swimming around the room.

It’s been a weird day, been one of the weirdest days of his life, topping the day he walked in on Kuroo in the beginning of one of his ruts with only Bokuto there to help, topping the day he had to deal with a wild chicken loose in his bedchambers, and most certainly topping the day everything in his room had been inexplicably moved one inch to the left.

He’s worried. Worried about a lot of things. Worried mainly about how he’s going to explain that his Queen needs to be trained from scratch, how his Queen was a royal without so much as a lick of battle training, how his Queen is _weak._

But on the other hand, there’s so much potential, especially after what happened in the bath house. Oikawa is still strong enough to hold him down and climb on top of him, he’s still capable of learning, picking up the language quickly, and he’s certainly _smart,_ even if he can’t act on his own. And it’s not like their military has ever had much issue teaching what was once deemed the unteachable, even if those who earn the title of unteachable typically end up guarding the outposts of the castle or stopping petty theft outside castle walls.

But that doesn’t matter. He _is_ going to have a strong Queen, he _is_ going to get Oikawa from point A to point B if it’s the last thing he ever does. First, he’ll get Oikawa to the point where he can win in a fight against him so they can bond, and that’ll have to happen before his coronation at the start of winter. Then, he’ll have to help train Oikawa to where he can defeat his own coronation tasks, and make him a Queen.

He’ll be there every step of the way. For himself, for the very people of Seijoh, and most of all, for Oikawa himself. Because no Queen of Seijoh dares bow their head to anyone.

\---

Oikawa awakens surrounded by body heat, a heavy arm draped over him with the sound of soft snores coming from his right. He turns his head and finds the Prince with a bad case of bedhead, sleeping with his mouth hanging slightly open, face so relaxed and peaceful it toes the line into angelic territory.

He stares, just for a second, and the panic starts to sink in. 

What is he supposed to do now?

He could either wake up the Prince, and face the consequences of waking him up before he’s ready, or he can just rest here until he wakes up himself, staring at the blank walls of the tent for an undesirable amount of time.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to think about it too hard, and the tent flap opens, Kuroo dipping into the room with the cheesiest, greasiest smile Oikawa’s ever seen a person wear. He can’t even talk to Kuroo and somehow knows his personality well, knows that whatever Kuroo is up to will surely annoy the Prince. Kuroo falters a little when his eyes land on Oikawa, seeing he’s awake, but shoots him a quick wink and marches up to the Prince, grabbing the futon covers and ripping them off.

Prince Iwaizumi chokes on a snore and jumps up, his arm flying out to chop at Kuroo.

“Kev e vekk, Kuroo?” He hisses, eyes squinted but angry, and Oikawa doesn’t have to know the language to understand that he’s cursing. 

“Bei miern, u vem bei Iwaizumi-sam,” He drops the covers, letting them fall back onto the Prince. “Bei miern, Oikawa-sam.”

He bows his head quickly, “Bei… miern?” He returns, assuming that it means good morning, or some other kind of greeting. 

Kuroo whistles, putting his hands on his hips, looking down at Iwaizumi with a beaming smile, “Feis reiner. Wesste, vior yeeshe off e ur. Kweste Oikawa-sam eeheshe lae te.”

“Re, Musa,” Iwaizumi groans sarcastically as he rubs his eyes, Kuroo grinning like it’s the funniest inside joke in the world. He turns his head and whistles sharply, one of the betas walking in through the flap, carrying two bowls of food. He puts them down next to the lamp and bows his head, promptly leaving.

“Viv’e zirio, eehte. Vior skuhek niu e stor e vee eehas chopsticks, meve vior koik e par u weh koue kauz weh nikoue e fork. Vior yeeshe off e ur, Iwaizumi-sam,” Kuroo orders him around, ducking back out of the room.

Prince Iwaizumi rubs his eyes with a small groan, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. His hair is a mess, his entire being screaming something more of a cave gremlin that his mother had warned him about as a child than a Prince. He yawns and stretches, his back muscles moving through the fabric of his shirt. Oikawa catches himself from staring for too long, and rolls out of bed onto his knees, lifting himself up to get the bowls of food for the both of them. 

Prince Iwaizumi blinks up at him and pats the bed next to him, holding out both hands expectantly. Oikawa hands him the food and sits down, obeying his alpha, and Iwaizumi passes him the bowl that has a pair of chopsticks crossed over the rice and rolled omelet. It seems normal enough, and he waits for Prince Iwaizumi to start eating before he takes the chopsticks into his hand, effortlessly splitting the egg into smaller bites, picking them up and raising them to his mouth easily.

He looks up from his food and almost chokes, Prince Iwaizumi staring at him in groggy wonder, food on the corners of his mouth, eyes flickering between him and the chopsticks in his hand. Oikawa grabs another mouthful and raises it up to his mouth, the Prince blinking rapidly in some sort of disbelief that he can use sticks to eat, going back to his own food.

It feels… _normal,_ and Oikawa finishes up his meal around the same time as Iwaizumi does, the two of them going over to their respective sides of the tent to their clothing luggage. Iwaizumi sheds his shirt, and Oikawa can’t help but stare.

He’s made entirely of hard muscle, as if he had been sculpted out of stone and fitted with satin instead of skin. He’s beautifully tan, his skin something to almost marvel at, since tan skin is something his parents had always kept him from developing, most of his time spent in the gardens but also spent under an umbrella, since tan skin was for physical workers and soldiers, never an omega and especially never a regal one.

And it’s most certainly true here, an alpha that’s as hard working as Prince Iwaizumi, tan and muscular, his shoulder blades moving gracefully even though his upper body moves more as a unit. He has an aura of swiftness to him, despite being stocky, and his arms move through the air with zero resistance, the arms of a swordsman.

Oikawa bends over and cringes, his body still throbbing from where he had forced the Prince into him. It’s a dangerous sort of pleasant, though, knowing that the throb is mere evidence of being a good omega, of having been used, but the circumstances surrounding the throb tear away everything pleasant about it, sinking his pride. He shouldn’t have jumped the Prince like that, but he needed to do _something_ to avoid being seen naked by other alphas. 

His body is for his alpha and his alpha alone, and he’d rather dry fuck himself onto _his_ alpha and face Prince Iwaizumi’s consequences later than live with the shame that within a day of being married he had already been seen vulnerable by so many others whom are also unmated. Besides, he’s almost convinced now that Prince Iwaizumi won’t punish him until they get to Seijoh.

Especially after his request to bed Oikawa last night. Or, at least that’s what Oikawa was taught that’s what that meant. He had gotten on the bed, raised his nightgown, patiently waited for orders, and his alpha had just turned away. Again.

As sure as he is that Prince Iwaizumi won’t punish him until they arrive in Seijoh, he’s equally sure that he has, indeed, been rejected. 

Pushing him off of him in the bath despite being somewhat aroused, not using him after offering to take Oikawa to bed. It’s yet another sign that the Prince doesn’t want him, at least for sex.

But what else could he do as an omega? It’s his job to give the alpha heirs, to bring him pleasure, and the Prince refuses him in every way. He may be the Prince’s husband, but he’ll never be the alpha’s _omega,_ and the sooner he accepts that, the sooner he can get himself ready for what’s to come. He’s lucky his one experience with sex had been a relatively good one, because the Prince might not ever use him again.

He picks out one of the neatly folded robes and drops his nightgown, the faint scent of black tea starting to permeate the air as he slips the robe over his shoulders. He’d be damned if he didn't learn how to dress himself properly, and today is no different. The only issue, however, is the tie, which is always meant to tie in the back, and he’s always had someone to tie it for him. 

But he can’t be expected to ask for help, and there’s a first time for everything. He can tie his own damn robe.

He slips the fabric over his stomach and reaches around his back, trying to find the end pieces. One of them slips back into the front, and he tries again, fumbling with the strips, finally getting them to come together before realizing that the left side is twisted. He huffs in irritation, and the smell of black tea isn’t helping him focus. It’s stronger now, more present, as if the alpha is standing directly behind him.

He looks over his shoulder, meeting almost directly with green eyes, and he jumps in surprise. Oh, hell, the Prince _is_ right behind him. Not only is his body stocky yet graceful, but he’s light on his feet. Good to make note of.

The Prince looks down, and takes the end pieces of the fabric in his hands, eyes once again meeting Oikawa’s with an unspoken permission. Oikawa swallows, and drops his hands, opting to rest them on the top of his trunk as he leans over it, which, in all honesty, puts him in a slightly compromising position, the Prince’s hips just inches away from him.

The Prince smoothes out the fabric and pulls tight, Oikawa gasping as the air’s forcefully evicted from his lungs, and the fabric immediately loosens. He catches his breath, the breath full of the dizzying scent of black tea, and the Prince tries again, tying the waistband a little too loose, but it’s careful and gentle. 

The presence behind him steps back, and Oikawa looks down at his outfit, the pale blue and white matched with more pale blue making him feel _pretty._ It’s always been his favorite color combination on himself, a color his mother had always said makes his eyes pop against the pale of his skin. 

He looks around for his makeup, feeling incomplete without it, having worn at least a little almost every day since he presented.

Yesterday was a given cheat day, since he was loaded into the carriage like the luggage itself, but there’s no excuse not to wear a casual amount today. He rummages through the robes and finds only his blush, blindly patting some onto his cheeks and trying to smooth it out with his fingers. Hopefully it doesn’t look too bad since he doesn’t have a mirror, and gives up on finding eyeshadow or lipstick in his mess of clothing, barely caring about how his hair is styled as long as it’s brushed.

He turns around and the Prince nearly drops the folded futon, his eyes going wide for a split second before they drop back down to what he was doing, his own natural blush filling out his cheeks. 

“Tev’e meve lind,” He mutters under his breath, avoiding Oikawa’s gaze as he continues to work.

Oikawa knows these words. Knows that they’re along the lines of what the Prince had said when he first laid eyes on him when they were alone. He knows it’s praise, and he would give anything to know the real meaning behind it. He finds the notebook Yahaba had given him and tries to sound it out in his mind, jotting it down along with the greeting from the morning, just to remember it.

But it’s praise. 

It’s praise from the Prince. 

And that’s all he could ever ask for, donning the smallest of smiles before helping Prince Iwaizumi fold the covers and the futon, slipping his sandals on before carrying things out, following the direction of the other members that seem to be doing the same thing. They bow their heads to him and speak their greetings, and he tries his best to reciprocate.

“Bei miern,” He repeats, the phrase seeming more and more like a good morning, but the suffix around his name only confuses him.

Everyone seems to use a suffix after names, Iwaizumi’s and his own being “sam”, Yahaba, Kindaichi, and Kuroo’s being “sa”, and everyone else either suffix-less or “ku”, but he’s heard “ku” used with Kuroo, so he’s not quite sure what it actually means. He steps aside the bustle of the group, and writes it down, looking up just in time to see Yahaba approach him.

“Good morning, Oikawa-sam,” He greets in his native language, and Oikawa nods.

“Good morning, Yahaba-sa,” He returns, the fellow omega breaking out into a proud smile.

“Ey!” He holds a thumb up. “Bei halsh.”

He has no idea what that last word means, but it sounds like a good thing, so he smiles and accepts it. Yahaba puts his hands on his hips, dagger still by his side, and the two watch as everyone starts to break down the last few tents, a few of the group members trading things with the other campers. 

And Prince Iwaizumi leads them all, helping almost everyone with their tasks, Kuroo trailing behind him to silently fix everything the Prince slips up on, giving him notes of praise. It’s easy to tell that Prince Iwaizumi is a good prince, a great leader, one that cares about his people and isn’t afraid to break a sweat doing things on his own.

It’s a much different experience than what Oikawa’s had to put up with ever since he presented, but before, when he was a young alpha-to-be, he was the same way. He traveled to make connections with other kingdoms, made trips to visit his people, helped his father solve problems that affected the greater problems and helped his people with the lesser ones. 

It’s admirable that Prince Iwaizumi is the perfect image of the Prince that Oikawa could have been. 

Yahaba taps his shoulder, and he turns his attention back to the other omega. He points to the carriages. 

“Miern, lae vem ro Kyoutani,” He moves his hand from the second carriage to point to the first, giving him options. “I lae Kuroo-sa, Iwaizumi-sam, ro Kindaichi-sa.”

Oikawa blinks, looks at Iwaizumi, and then looks down at his book. If Yahaba is asking who he wants to ride with for the day, he’d honestly rather spend it with Yahaba, just to pick his brain over what the phrases in the book mean. But then again, he can get the same education from his alpha. 

But would they want an omega to infiltrate their space? They had seemed a little uncomfortable yesterday after he was thrown out of the store and placed into their carriage, so maybe they didn’t want him traveling with the Prince after all. They had put him in Yahaba’s carriage to start with, too.

“You,” Oikawa tries one of the words he’s learned, his grip on the book tightening.

Yahaba nods, and turns to Prince Iwaizumi and Kuroo, who are overseeing that the items get put away correctly. “Ey! Iwaizumi-sam!” He hikes his thumb up over his shoulder. “Weh eskvesh lae vem miern. Yel?”

Prince Iwaizumi nods, albeit a little small and somewhat disappointed. 

Of course, that disappointment only came after Yahaba had pointed to Oikawa, so it’s only natural. The Prince doesn’t want an omega in his carriage, and Oikawa can understand that. Maybe being with another omega will be a good thing, he’s spent the better part of the past four years surrounded by omegas and betas, the only alphas allowed near him being specific guards and his father.

He’d be lying if he said the mix of scents wasn’t getting to him. 

And maybe it’s a good thing, (gods forgive him for saying this), that his heat came before the wedding, because with the way everyone smells, and the way that the Prince smells specifically, he knows he would have lost his mind. But he’s always had rough heats, ones that are painful and long, ones that start and then seemingly end before the final waves hit him again when he smells the faint waft of any alpha.

He’s always been a little greedy in that regard, or at least, that’s what his mother always told him. That his cries for an alpha had always been the neediest, most pathetic ones she’s ever heard, that his desperate pleas to be filled were nothing short of a distraction to all the hard-working alphas in the entire castle.

But his fellow omegas took good care of him, cleaning him up, keeping him fed and hydrated, looking after him when he was so out of it he could barely remember his own name. Omegas take care of omegas, and it’s only fair that he seizes the moment to get close to Yahaba, since he’s still not entirely certain if he’s being given to Kyoutani or not.

The whole situation is weird, but it’s probably just some cultural thing, and his lack of solid knowledge of the current Seijoh is shining bright. Regardless of whether or not he’s going to be gifted to someone else or dropped off somewhere as soon as they reach the kingdom borders, he needs a plan.

He needs to learn the language to the best of his ability, learn some of the customs and what’s expected of him as an omega, study the other omegas and how they interact with alphas and betas. He _will_ be a good omega for the Seijoh kingdom, and maybe he can learn enough on the trip to convince the Prince to keep him.

Spending some quality time studying Yahaba and how he interacts with Kyoutani will be a good start, their dynamic already different from what he’s used to. But if he wants to be good, wants to stay out of a filthy, overcrowded room awaiting his next client, wants to stay in the Prince’s bed and no one else’s, he has to push everything he knows aside and adapt to what he sees.

Yahaba looks around the campsite and nods, Kuroo shouting something after him, mentioning Oikawa’s name, and Yahaba nods again. He goes over to the carriage and opens the door, motioning for Oikawa to follow and get inside. 

And getting inside a carriage while wearing a long robe is not easy. At all. Getting out? Yeah, he can do that. He can get out easily, just jump down the step and let gravity do its thing, but getting his leg to bend enough for him to climb the first step? He might as well try to just jump straight up into the carriage. 

He swings his leg up and goes a little too far, and cringes at the telltale sound of fabric ripping. Shiratorizawan omegan robes are made to fit the omega tightly, accent their curves and their bodies as they walk, flared sleeves aiding in arm movement but leg movement constricted unless the fabric tie and the robe itself is undone, leaving the omega half-naked. He looks down at the rip, which goes from the base of the hem up to just below his knee. 

Well, that’s one of his five robes trashed. And the emerald one might be a little too ruined from all the residual serum-induced slick that had discreetly trickled out of him throughout the previous day. He only has about three good robes left to wear and rewear for the length of the trip, which doesn’t bode well for him. Oh well, he’ll just have to put up with it.

He steps back down, and Yahaba stares at the rip, his eyes going a little wide.

“Vi eske meve zorii, Oikawa-sam,” He gasps out. “U te wess-”

Oikawa reaches down and pulls at the fabric, straining his muscles to rip it more, so that it goes up to his mid thigh. He huffs after the exertion, spitting a piece of hair out of his face. 

If it’s going to be trashed, he might as well rip it to the point of where he can move around better. He looks down at the tear, his leg showing through the slit, and briefly looks up in time to catch Prince Iwaizumi staring, his eyes trailing down to Oikawa’s leg. He turns his head, and Oikawa’s heart sinks a little as he faces the carriage opening. 

So the Prince doesn’t even want to look at his naked leg, either.

He hopes it’s a cultural thing, that all this avoiding him and all this rejection is something that’s customary to Seijoh, something that’s normal. But then again, even within the context of the other kingdoms he’s visited and dealt with. Every alpha he’s ever met other than Ushijima, who had mentioned in the secrecy of night when they were good friends, (a little tipsy, and sitting in the castle garden to catch glimpses of the court omegas as they followed their alphas to bed), that he did not feel that kind of attraction. That he wanted an omega for how they carried themselves, how they loved and cherished him back, and _never_ for their body.

That had been the most shocking thing to Oikawa, that someone, especially someone who was sure to be an alpha, did not lust after an omega. And sure, Ushijima still has lustful ruts, still turns his head at the passing omega in heat, but Oikawa isn’t exactly sure if that last part is because he actually _was_ affected by their scents or if he was trying to hide the fact it didn’t affect him at all. 

The fact he doesn’t experience that kind of thing is kept between the two of them, and maybe Tendou, half out of fear of what others would say, half out of fear he’d be deemed less of an alpha, and his position would be gifted to another. 

There’s a small possibility that the Prince is the same way, but with how he had acted during the better parts of their wedding night, and the way he had gotten somewhat hard at the sight of Oikawa undressing, (don’t get him wrong, that almost convinced him that the Prince still wanted him, until the Prince had started trying to push him off of him almost immediately after being inside of him), he’s not so convinced that Prince Iwaizumi is the same way. 

Oikawa climbs into the carriage and takes a seat, the tear in his robe thankfully resting on the side, so that he’s still relatively covered despite his pale thigh showing through. He pulls the notebook out from his pocket, and rests it in his lap so that it’s not poking at him. He flips through it, and tries to write down everything he remembers, the first words the Prince had said to him before their consummation briefly flashing in his mind.

He doesn’t remember it exactly, but he writes down what he does know, hoping that Yahaba can help him. He manages to get something that looks like “tei veilent” and shakes his head, hoping for the best. It’s probably not right, but it’s a start, and a start is all he needs.

Soon, Yahaba and Kyoutani are joining him, Yahaba taking a seat to his right and Kyoutani sliding in across from them, resting his weapon in his lap, eyes fixed on the window that leads outside. Yahaba eyes up the notebook, and Oikawa perks up a little, showing it off before handing it over for the fellow omega to look over.

He flips through it, nodding to himself, pausing when he gets to the portion Oikawa had just added.

“Kev esk?” He looks up at Oikawa, and Oikawa confirms that that probably means “what is this”.

“Ero hikonolde,” Oikawa says that he doesn’t know, and Yahaba reads it aloud.

“Tei veilent?” He questions. “Te… veilent. Veilent?”

“Tev’e,” Kyoutani offers, and Yahaba makes an ‘o’ with his mouth, nodding. 

“Tev’e lent,” He frowns. “Vo, ni esk lent. Lint?”

“Lint?” Kyoutani scoffs, and the carriage starts to move with a small ‘hup’ from the coachmen. “Mey lind?”

“Tev’e lind?” Yahaba asks, looking at Oikawa for confirmation.

The words are familiar, and Oikawa nods, confirming the sound. “Rait.”

“Tev’e,” Yahaba starts, and points to Oikawa. “Te.”

“Vi,” Oikawa repeats, referring to himself, and Yahaba’s eyes light up. 

“Ey!” He grins. “Tev’e,” He thinks for a second, looking for a description. “It’s ‘is’ but no, but yes.”

Alright, it’s another way to say ‘you are’. The Prince had told him that he was _something._ He nods, and takes the book back, filling in “Ze zerem/e rem” under it, Ze used for alphas and betas, and e being used for omegas. He looks back at Yahaba and urges him to continue. 

Yahaba takes his hand and waves it around his face, “Good.” He says in the Seijoh language, gesturing around at his features. Oikawa cocks an eyebrow, but he gets the gist. Good face. You are good face? You have a good face? He brings the quill down to the paper and stops, the tip hovering above the sheet of parchment, a single drop starting to threaten to dribble like the realization that passes through him.

_You are beautiful._

The Prince had called him beautiful. 

“E rem purei,” He translates raspily, slowly, tilting his head to look out of the window.

The wildflowers are beautiful. Every sunflower, every tulip, the mix of colors and the clusters of baby’s breath that line the dirt road are beautiful. The lakes, sparkling like freshly cut gemstones, they are certainly beautiful. The luscious green valleys and hills full of songbirds and butterflies are the most beautiful of all.

He is not.

He’s only ever been beautiful in his wedding gown, face full of makeup so that his true features could be covered and made better. The Prince must have been referring to his wedding attire, and not his bare face when he had called him beautiful. He had reacted the same way when he put on blush this morning, so it’s the makeup that’s beautiful, the dress that’s beautiful, and not him. _Never him._

But still, being told that he is beautiful is more than flattering, something that he truly doesn’t deserve but wants to believe. The Prince had thought he was beautiful. The Prince had walked in, laid eyes upon his bare face for the first time, and had called him beautiful.

It almost brings him to tears, to have the honor of his omegan self to be compared to something like the valleys and the lakes and the warm petals of a golden dandelion. To be something so warm and pure, if only for a moment.

He brings a palm over his face, his cheeks starting to burn with the strain of keeping his tear ducts from betraying him, and he takes in a shaky breath. His heart hangs heavy, but it’s a full kind of heavy, the kind of heavy that presses against his chest and warms him at his core. It’s a good kind of heavy, like another heart is resting on top of it, trying to squeeze its way in.

_You are beautiful._

He smiles to himself, bites his lip, and turns back to Yahaba, eager to learn more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter translations
> 
> Seijoh Language
> 
> **Dinner Scene**  
>  Akaashi tolke neles meve omega u alpha ket vior eeh. - Akaashi told us that we need more omegas than alphas when we eat.
> 
> Wehv’e nish bei, esk e fork. Esk faev koue. - He's not very good, it's a fork. It's easy to use.
> 
> Weh nel tov, Kuroo-ku - He needs time, Kuroo
> 
> **Morning Scene**  
>  Kev e vekk - What the fuck
> 
> Feis reiner. Wesste, vior yeeshe off e ur. Kweste Oikawa-sam eeheshe lae te. - Quick learner. Now get dressed, we leave in an hour. Make sure Prince Oikawa eats with you.
> 
> Re, Musa - Yes, mother
> 
> Viv’e zirio, eehte. Vior skuhek niu e stor e vee eehas chopsticks, meve vior koik e par u weh koue kauz weh nikoue e fork. Vior yeeshe off e ur. - I’m serious, eat. We found out from the store that they eat with sticks, so we bought a pair for him to use since he can’t use a fork. Wheels up in an hour.
> 
> Bei halsh - Good pronunciation
> 
> Weh eskvesh lae vem miern. Yel? - He's going to be with me today. Okay?
> 
> Vi eske meve zorii, u te wess- - I am so sorry, your dress-
> 
> Shiratorizawa Language
> 
> **Bath house scene**  
>  Omega hae rem wit! - There's an omega in there!
> 
> Ero Ze nimelde erel umei, Zeal omega otilaa- - I need to get past, he better be using that omega-
> 
> Ero erem serei. Rai, tezeldaa. - I am so sorry, please continue.
> 
> Ero erem serei aat Zer baatthus higralae, rai Ze Plaz reelaa em Zem reelaa haat Tooru Ze hiraitae, em Zem Ze azumie kompli, ero lit Ze omilde kamsalmi lit erelmis. - I am so sorry for disgracing your bath house. Please contact the palace and tell them that Tooru has wronged you, and they will compensate you fully. I accept any punishment for my actions.
> 
> Num serei, ero Zee nerolie umwei. Em e et er alpha mantulae. E erom hazelae num hiraits. E wit er alpha yeelo em e erelo omega be, er alpha hipaza wit e yalde. - Don't be sorry, I was gonna clean it anyways, plus you were dealing with your alpha. You’ve done no crime to me. Now go back to your alpha and be a good omega, he’s looking worried about you.
> 
> Hrei, Zeal! - Thank you Sir!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa faces more of his country.
> 
> Iwaizumi and Kuroo test Oikawa's swordsmanship skills.
> 
> Yahaba faces a possible danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and commenting!! It seriously makes my day to see so much as a heart. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Side note, the translations shouldn't be as heavy from here on :)

“Alright,” Iwaizumi stretches his legs and arms, trying to get that one damn spot in between his shoulder blade and his spine to stop from aching. He cracks his neck a little, and hums in satisfaction at the little pop it gives.

They’ve stopped for lunch and for the horses to rest, the suburbs of Shiratorizawa just as beautiful as outside of the inner city, the first pub in the first village they’ve encountered on the way back finally coming into view. They’re close to Dateko’s borders now, they’ll pass within the hour, and he hopes that there will be more open minded people across the border. 

He knows Prince Moniwa, and knows that he’s a well respected and just beta. He certainly wouldn’t tolerate such cruel treatment to omegas within his castle walls, but then again, no Prince can ever control what happens in the whole of their kingdom. He just hopes that there’s ripples of understanding that grace the borders.

Everyone enters the pub, their group large enough to take up a good half of the open seats, and Oikawa trails behind them, smiling as he speaks fragmented sentences with Yahaba, Yahaba cheering him on and giving him notes on his pronunciation or his grammar.

And gods, he’s so pretty when he smiles. 

It melts away the tension in his muscles, and even though he was upset to hear that Oikawa’s not comfortable enough around him to ride in the same carriage, seeing Oikawa find someone to smile with is more than worth it. He made the right decision to ride with Yahaba, and if he looks _this_ happy, looks _this_ beautiful when he smiles, then Iwaizumi will do everything in his power to keep it permanently plastered.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen a little when a short omega approaches, an apron tied around her waist, her eyes set on Oikawa.

“Reo Tooru! Wit onur!”

She bows, and Oikawa’s eyes widen, his entire posture dropping as he takes a staggered step backwards, looking almost uncomfortable with the omega’s exclamation.

“Rai!” She motions for everyone to come in, begging ‘please’. “Wit onur Ze Era pozilde zerem wit erar komelmi umeilde. Wit onur, rait!”

She bows her head, first to Oikawa, then to Iwaizumi, and then briefly nods to everyone in the room. Her eyes move around frantically, happily, and she looks ready to either explode or take off running. 

“Zee num zerem,” Oikawa fumbles, shaking his hands out in front of him. “Ero erem num Reo.”

Iwaizumi knows this word. Reo. It means an omegan Prince or Princess. He knows this sentence, the words simple enough for him to understand, but that doesn’t make hearing them any less hard. “I am no Prince.” The words are shocking to hear, but at this point, he’s more shocked at himself that he’s still able to be shocked.

Oikawa doesn’t even see himself as a prince to his own people, and being called by his own title is something that flusters him entirely. The omega continues begging, the two of them speaking back and forth, the omega pointing to the troupe and then to the empty pub, bowing her head and causing such a scene that two betas poke their heads out from behind the kitchen curtain. They, too, look to be in shock of Oikawa, and disappear to summon their father.

She hurries off to close the wooden pub door sign to read “closed”, Iwaizumi’s fears starting to sink in that she’s kicking them out, but smiles broadly back at them, Oikawa’s posture admitting defeat as he thanks her. 

She says something excitedly and runs off before Oikawa can say a word, his cheeks starting to match his makeup, and he awkwardly straightens and smooths out one of the only robes he has left. He looks around at the room, everyone staring back, all eyes on him, waiting for some kind of explanation that he can’t give.

“We eat, no money,” He says simply, in broken but learning Seijoh, motioning for everyone to take their own seats at the tables. 

It’s the same group as before, Kuroo and Iwaizumi seated at one of the tables with Oikawa and Yahaba, with Kindaichi and Kyoutani and a few other guards at the tables surrounding them.

Everyone looks to Oikawa for an answer, and Yahaba asks him what happened, Oikawa flipping through pages of notes, searching for the words to explain.

“We eat with no money. They I are happy am omega,” Oikawa fumbles, his pronunciation growing in accuracy, his grammar matching up to something closer to Shiratorizawan. His face heats up even more, and he flips to the last page of his notes. “Happy I am Prince.”

Iwaizumi turns his head to look back at the kitchen, four heads poking out of the door, everyone talking amongst themselves as they stare at their table, no doubt talking about Oikawa. They look on in awe, in complete wonder and amazement, and Oikawa stares down at the table, playing with his notebook.

“I see them,” Oikawa says softly, his eyes glossing over in a hazy sort of memory. He nods to himself, a faint smile gracing his lips. “And alpha is good.”

So he has been outside of the walls before. 

Which makes _sense._

Iwaizumi should have realized it sooner, and shouldn't have needed Kuroo to remind him that Oikawa wasn’t _always_ an omega. But Kuroo did, and Iwaizumi realized Oikawa probably had full range over where to go and who to be and what to do before he presented. But then again, he does _look_ like an omega, his features lean and delicate and small, has that complete omega aura, and from Seijoh standards, at least, his parents should have seen it coming that Oikawa would have presented as an omega.

Which means, if they had known, that Oikawa probably got carted around for his entire life, and his trips outside the castle walls were most likely confined to within the Shiratorizawa borders and there’s no doubt in Iwaizumi’s mind that the trips were minimal at best. He was always meant to be an omega, but what the hell does Iwaizumi know?

He may have been here in this pub before, but as far as Iwaizumi knows, it could have been the first and only time Oikawa left the castle. What he was doing out here, he doesn’t know, but Oikawa’s smile has faded, been replaced with one of the deepest, most wistful frowns he’s ever seen a man wear. It breaks his heart, and he looks over his shoulder at the group of people that run the place, who hold plates full of bread and steaming meat.

They serve Oikawa first, everyone in the family coming out to bow their heads to him, which makes Oikawa frown deepen. The omega says something, probably about what an honor it is to serve him, and Oikawa looks up, meeting her eyes.

“Hrei,” He nods. “Hrei wit e lit komelmi, dollum ero Zem num jerelde wit erom jifdan. Num Reo omilie lit eror erelmis.”

Iwaizumi can’t understand much, but what he can understand is the body language of the people before him. They’re proud. They’re proud of their Prince, the few words Iwaizumi _is_ able to catch something of Oikawa thanking them for the food and for feeding them, knowing that one of those words means free, and they’re most likely discussing the price being free.

But Oikawa seems to be in an argument.

The family bows their heads to him, the omega speaking with high honor. “Zee num erelde hirait! Ae onur-”

“Hrei, ero azulie aat eror komelmi. Umzem komelmi erelie jifdan, Zem onurelie ost wit erar weme, dollum hrei, ero azumie aat eror.”

“No, we cannot-” The man’s eyes go wide at his words, the sentence simple enough for Iwaizumi to understand.

And for the first time, Oikawa interrupts an alpha.

“Ero num pozilde azu, dollum Ero Ze jerelie derf, Zee erelie nolmi. Hrei, Zem Era jerelae komelmi um, em hrei aat umeilmi. Zem erelde eror erelmis.”

The alpha man tears up as he speaks, Oikawa sitting up straighter and straighter with every word, a small flicker of confidence rippling through him as he speaks to the alpha, his wife, and what seem to be their two sons. The alpha starts crying, the omega bows so low that she manages to duck down far enough to disappear under the table, and the sons share their praise, their gratitude, and rush to bring out food for everyone else. 

Oikawa picks up the sticks and picks up a piece of meat, Kuroo holding his hand to stop him from eating. He looks down at the food that he takes in front of him, then back at Oikawa, who’s too shocked with Kuroo’s actions to react before the latter man eats a piece of the rice, the bread, and the meat. 

He chews slowly, and swallows, a few long seconds passing before his tension starts to relax, and he pushes the food back at Oikawa.

Oikawa stares at him in bewilderment, but Iwaizumi knows that Kuroo is just doing his job. Tasting food that their own troop hasn’t prepared before a royal eats it, and although Iwaizumi would doubt that these four people, who cried at Oikawa’s words, would poison him, one can never be too sure. 

Yahaba speaks up, holding his thumb up and down as he speaks in simple sentences, “Sir Kuroo sees if the food is good or bad,” He points at the dish and Oikawa looks down, then back up with a slight haze of confusion. “If bad,” He draws a line over his throat, and Oikawa nods in understanding, waiting a few longer seconds staring at Kuroo as if watching to see if he has some sort of delayed reaction to dying.

Kuroo survives, and everyone relaxes.

“Is good,” Oikawa picks up some bread with his hands, fitting a piece into his mouth. “Alpha, beta, omega are good.”

Everyone looks down at their own meals as they’re brought out, and begin to eat. 

Well, they would, but there’s only chopsticks, no forks, no knives, not even so much as a spoon. Just the two chopsticks that Iwaizumi is convinced takes some kind of dark magic to operate correctly. Oikawa easily picks up bites with the skill of a master, and Iwaizumi starts to wonder if he married some kind of mage. 

Or maybe this is payback for everyone making fun of his inability to use a fork.

Iwaizumi doesn’t even know where to start, trying to follow Oikawa’s example, fitting one of the damned things between his fingers while the top one keeps slipping out of his grip. Kuroo and Yahaba seem to have the same idea to follow by example, having the same luck he does. He looks around and sees everyone else in their group take one look at the utensils and instantly give up, piling the meat onto the bread and rice and using it as a vessel with their hands.

The food is good, as he abandons the damn sticks in favor of using his hands, promising to himself that he’ll never laugh at Oikawa struggling to use a fork for the rest of his life. But that doesn’t stop him from trying again, managing to pick something a few inches off his plate before it ultimately falls back down. Yahaba gives him a short clap, his hands a little pale in comparison to the small budding pink of his face, and when he turns his head, he can see that Oikawa is wearing the smallest of smiles, which makes it entirely worth it.

They finish eating, and when Yahaba goes to the front desk to pay anyways, the family refuses, bowing their heads and shaking their palms, insisting things Iwaizumi can’t understand but somehow knows completely. This was for Oikawa, _all for him,_ and they won’t accept payment for something they’re honored to do.

However, as they leave, Oikawa starts to undo his robe, Iwaizumi’s eyes going wide as Oikawa folds the fabric of his waist cinch, bows, and offers it with one hand, the other hand keeping his robe closed, the loose fabric flowing around his legs as if the rip hadn’t been enough.

They take the fabric with even more gratitude, and Oikawa raises his head, looking close to tears. He quickly composes himself with a short breath and straightens out the robe with the hand that isn’t holding it shut, the doors opening for them. The betas already have the same thought as Iwaizumi, and they rush to get him a new waistband, pulling the fabric from yesterday out of the ever-building pile of dirty laundry they’ve been carting around, waiting for a river or a washing house to pass by. 

Yahaba helps him this time, and the robe is tied shut, but the whole thing is in desperate need of repair. Iwaizumi turns to Kuroo, idly watching as Oikawa effortlessly gets into the carriage with the rip’s aid. 

“We should find a tailor when we get to Karasuno. Get that fixed up.”

“What,” Kuroo playfully elbows him. “Scared your husband is showing a little too much leg?”

Iwaizumi pushes him, a small blush forming on his cheeks. Kuroo sees right through it, laughing as he regains his footing.

“Only dancers have slits in their clothing that go up that far,” Iwaizumi clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, trying his best to come up with an explanation. But if telling someone he came in his husband’s mouth or comparing said husband to an omegan dancer is any consolation, he’s not very good at it. “But never mind that, Oikawa shouldn't have to put up with ripping his clothes to shreds just to get in and out of the carriages.”

“We could just give him some of our own clothes,” Kuroo offers. “I’m sure someone is his size. Hell, he could probably fit into something of mine if I didn’t only have one extra clean set.”

“That’s… gross. I think I only have one clean pair, as well,” Iwaizumi scrunches up his nose, and Kuroo shrugs. “But that could work. Maybe even Yahaba has something, they seem to be around the same height and stature. We’ll have to find a wash house in Dateko, though. We shouldn’t have to put up with wearing disgusting clothing.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to find one, should it?” Kuroo questions, his tone as unsure as Iwaizumi feels. They hadn't seen one on the way in, but Dateko is rather modern, and finding something shouldn’t be impossible. “Another thing, Prince Iwaizumi,” He says as they pass through the group to get into their own carriages, the horses rested enough to ride again until their next stop. “When should we start sword training?”

Iwaizumi taps his chin, stomach crawling into his throat. “Soon. Within the week.”

“Of course,” Kuroo draws out like he wants a better response.

“Closer to the Karasuno border, I know that the Dateko countryside has lots of flat, empty land that’ll allow for us to camp again, and we will have all the space we need to train. We could even take advantage of their forces and resources while we’re in the Karasuno capital, if Prince Kageyama will let us.”

“I’m sure he would,” Kuroo nods in agreement. “But is having Oikawa practice in front of everyone such a good idea? And in front of the other kingdoms? Karasuno might be allies but Oikawa could show a potential weakness-”

“He needs the minimal amount of training before we get back to Seijoh,” Iwaizumi frowns, shaking bread crumbs off of his shirt. “Can you imagine showing him to Suga in the state he’s in?”

Kuroo and Iwaizumi shiver.

Sugawara would never accept someone so unskilled into his training grounds. He would have been a general if he had accepted the title, opting to remain as their head training operative for every soldier and guard in the court. No outside sargeants can act without Sugawara looking over their troops himself, and every castle guard must pass through his series of tests, which has a mere twenty-seven percent pass rate. 

He had been excited to get to be the one that trains the new Queen, spend long days with another royally trained general now that he’s beaten everyone in a duel. Within Seijoh laws, he could technically become a general’s mate, hell, he beat Iwaizumi and had it been a ceremonial mating duel, he could have taken the Prince for himself.

But he’s just passionate about five things, and five things only. One, he loves making rookies look like incapable idiots on the first day of training, weeding out everyone who thinks they can take the commanding officer because he’s an omega. Two, he loves his new kingdom, the Karasuno laws preventing him from reaching the potential he always had, since the only person he’s never won against is Prince Kageyama. Three, four, and five come as a package deal, and the only reason they don’t rank higher is because if they did, Seijoh would be Sugawara’s to control.

Iwaizumi is fortunate, both on and off the battlefield, to call such an amazing warrior a friend.

Everything will be fine, he reminds himself, in the hands of his capable and trusted staff.

Everything will be _fine._

-

They pass through Dateko within the week. Oikawa has been… fitting in to the best of his ability. His use of a fork has greatly improved, his basic use of the language has improved even more so, and Yahaba is a great teacher, describing everything he can in the area so that Oikawa can write it down, give a translation, and then try to add it into his vocabulary. 

He’s picked up on the language sooner than Iwaizumi expected, which is good. No, it’s great. Iwaizumi should be happy that he’s progressing with his own people, Oikawa’s ever-apparent curiosity starting to build more and more with every day that passes.

The days of traveling are long, the nights even longer, and now, they’re back to camping like they had done those first few nights in the countryside of Shiratorizawa, Dateko bigger both in size and for their travelers’ accommodations. They’ve had hot water, a warm bed, and, thank the gods, indoor plumbing, ever since they crossed over the border, and Iwaizumi is more than grateful for modern technology.

Shiratorizawa must have missed the memo. But then again, they seem to have sheltered everything within its borders in order to keep tradition. And if Iwaizumi has learned anything, and would be an idiot _not_ to learn, Shiratorizawa puts tradition above everything.

It’s almost barbaric.

But it explains why Oikawa is the way he is. He just doesn’t know any better. Doesn’t know that he can have rights, doesn’t believe himself to be better than betas or alphas, doesn’t _believe_ that he’s equal to Iwaizumi himself.

And he lays awake at night, staring at Iwaizumi like he expects something. When they finish their baths or their showers or make their way back to their bed right after dinner, Oikawa starts to look at Iwaizumi with some sort of pained expression, some kind of expectancy that Iwaizumi might just jump him then and there. Like he’s waiting for Iwaizumi to take him like he had their wedding night, which, Iwaizumi hates to admit, had been the best sex of his life up until the last few horrified minutes, of course. 

But he can’t let himself be the same kind of alpha that Oikawa is used to. He wants Oikawa to ask for it, not expect it, to give him the verbal or physical okay that he wants this, not just staring at him like he’s longing for something. 

He can’t be someone that uses an omega for his own pleasure, can’t look Oikawa in the eye and know that he expects him to pin him to the bed and fuck him as deeply and passionately as he had that first night. He’s not going to fit that mold and define himself as just a sex-crazed alpha, no matter how tantalizing Oikawa smells.

He had given Iwaizumi the same look the night before, but when Iwaizumi climbed under the covers like he always does, trying to signal to Oikawa that he’s not going to be like the alphas he’s used to, that he won’t be some omega that’s only used for the pleasure and satisfaction of an alpha, Oikawa gave him one look, nodded solemnly to himself as if confirming the burden of carrying the world, and got under the covers.

He hasn’t talked since, at least to Iwaizumi, and it’s around lunchtime, their new camp set up early, just to give the horses a bit more rest than just overnight. They’re out of Shiratorizawa, omegas have more rights, and Iwaizumi can breathe. They’re almost to Karasuno, and Yahaba and Kyoutani should be sending a carrier pigeon to alert the court of their impending arrival as they speak.

Today is the day.

A day he had been dreading, but there is a sense of ease in the way that he gets to wield his weapon so freely. He hasn’t pulled his sword since the incident with the beta woman throwing Oikawa out of the shop, but now, getting to train and test Oikawa’s abilities, there’s an odd comfort in getting to wield.

Kuroo hands Oikawa a sword, and his comfort fizzles out immediately, his throat going dry.

Oikawa takes the hilt into one hand, the weight immediately dropping to the ground, nearly swinging into his foot. He cringes at the sight, and Oikawa lets the tip of the sword dig into the ground, Kuroo sending a worried glance over his shoulder which Iwaizumi returns.

_He doesn’t know how to wield a sword._

Which means he’s had no formal weapon training, no experience with tacticals, no nothing. He’s probably been raised as an omega through and through, the way he grabs the hilt of the sword with two hands and awkwardly raises it out in front of him. 

It looks like he’s straining, just a little bit, and Iwaizumi’s heart deflates. He looks to his right, and his troops have already started to point and whisper, their faces growing in concern like he had feared. 

A future Queen that can’t wield a sword. 

It’s almost embarrassing, but it’s Seijoh’s fault for assuming that other countries would at least be like Inarizaki, where court omegas are still taught self defense with wooden swords and taught the correct foot movements. 

This is… appalling, to say the least. To say the absolute very least, because a Prince, a _Prince,_ should know how to defend himself, no matter what their secondary gender might be.

This is going to be harder than he thought.

“Prince Oikawa,” Kuroo instructs, capturing Oikawa’s attention. “Listen up.”

Kuroo motions to his ears and points at Oikawa, Oikawa nodding as Kuroo draws his own sword, taking the hilt into both hands, standing in a close right position, holding the sword near the right side of his body.

Oikawa strains a little to hold the sword up, but he removes it from the dirt and tries his best to get a firm grip on it, the sleeves of his robe making it hard for him to hold it the way Kuroo is. Iwaizumi scratches his chin and steps up to Oikawa, tapping his elbow and moving it downwards. 

Oikawa almost freezes at his touch, and Iwaizumi looks over the stance. Well… it’s a start. It’s not perfect, but his footwork is nearly perfect, even if the sword tip drops back down into the grass, Oikawa letting out a puff of air he had been holding in.

He already looks tired, and he and Kuroo share in a small look.

This isn’t working.

The footwork… it’s okay. It’s workable, and it actually isn’t horrible. His front foot flows with the body, and his back foot, instead of also facing the front, faces the side a little. But his robe is in the way, and there’s not much available room for his legs to move and get into the right position.

His footwork is okay.

“Maybe he’s just never used a longsword before,” Kuroo considers, and Iwaizumi shakes his head.

“Every Prince I know has longsword training.”

“Oikawa isn’t every Prince you know, though. And look at him, he can barely hold it up over his head.”

Kuroo nods to Oikawa, who is studying the details of the blade with his fingers, holding it in one hand, moving it to the other, and trying to find a good grip on it, huffing before he drops it back into the ground. He rolls his shoulders one by one, and he and Kuroo watch as Oikawa tries again, hyping himself up to lift the sword above his head.

“Wait, Oikawa-” Kuroo starts, a small bit of panic flashing in his eyes.

Oikawa raises the sword above his head, and there’s another tell-tale ripping sound, this time, going up the length of his back from right above his hips. It splits right down the middle, all the way up to the collar, and falls loosely on his shoulders with only the fabric tied around his waist to suspend it like a belt. 

He drops the sword in shock and looks down at his second ruined gown. His eyes flick uwardspand meets eyes with Iwaizumi, his eyes shifting into something apologetic as he covers himself to the best of his ability, kneels down, and puts the sword at his feet. He bows his head, and stands up, swiftly moving towards the carriage carrying everyone’s luggage, presumably to change.

Yahaba rushes to meet him, having seen the whole scene, and they start rummaging through things to look for a new robe. But if Iwaizumi is counting correctly, Oikawa only had five to begin with, two are ruined, one is ruined with slick for some reason he doesn’t really want to think about, and he’s worn the other two, which have probably been tossed into the pile of dirty clothes that everyone’s clothes get thrown into.

The sense of concern on Oikawa’s face that seems to deepen as they rummage through everyone’s clothing seems to deepen, and Yahaba puts a hand on his back, trying to calm him. Yep, he’s definitely out of clothes.

“Iwaizumi,” Kuroo begins softly, his voice more telling than his face. “He’s not good at this.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi bends over and picks up the sword from the ground, the metal weighty but not blocky or too hefty to wield. It really shouldn’t be hard for Oikawa to carry, so he has no guesses as to why the omega couldn’t hold it up for more than a few seconds. He’s seen Akaashi spar with Bokuto with a sword of the same make, and Akaashi’s job as a court scholar doesn’t do much with weapons. He watches as Oikawa and Yahaba cross over into Yahaba and Kyoutani’s tent. “I fear for Seijoh.”

“Don’t say that,” Kuroo tries to reassure, eyes trailing off to the dissipating crowd of people that had gathered to watch as they rest, eat, and make preparations for dinner, all hoping to see their future Queen in action. “At least not with everyone watching. Your confidence is their confidence.”

“If he can’t pick this up soon, then I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Iwaizumi continues, shaking his head.

“Hey, no,” Kuroo flicks his ear. “Sure, he kinda sucks right now, but I’ve seen Suga take farm hands and turn them into generals,” He looks over to Kindaichi, who is laughing with one of the betas, a goofy smile stretched across his face. “He can work with Oikawa. And it’s not like his footwork is _bad,”_ The word seems more like a question than a statement. “His arm movements aren’t bad. We can do this. This is probably just the first time he’s picked up a longsword, he can learn.”

“But how long will it take?” Iwaizumi turns his back to the tents, resting the blade over his shoulder, sliding his own back into its sheath. “I came of age this year, and I’ll take the throne this winter solstice. We only have a year for Oikawa, if we want to fit the schedule. His coronation, if mine isn’t delayed because we can’t mate,” He blows air out of his cheeks. “Will be next June. Can he really learn all this, learn how to be a Queen, learn how to be a citizen of Seijoh, in just a year?”

Kuroo opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it, looking over Iwaizumi’s shoulder. It’s a look of shock and awe, his hand resting on Iwaizumi’s shoulder to turn him around, Iwaizumi looking first at a rosy-looking Yahaba, who looks like he’s either hot or has been moving around too much, and second to Oikawa, who looks down at his new clothing with pure wonder and slight discomfort.

It’s one of Kyoutani’s shirts, Iwaizumi can smell that much, brick red and resting loosely on his body, a black pair of Yahaba’s pants fitting his legs well. He still moves a little stiffly, like his movements are confined by that of a robe that doesn’t exist, and his sandals are still on display rather than a pair of boots.

It’s an odd mix, his makeup and sandals with Seijoh clothing, but at the same time, it looks right. It looks… wow. Iwaizumi stares, his heart starting to beat in his chest at the sight of Oikawa in nothing more than the clothing of his home.

He almost looks like he belongs.

Oikawa reaches up and covers his scent glands with his hand, the neckline much more exposing than the robes had been, but it doesn’t help. The field now smells of wildflowers, endless rows of wildflowers and sunflowers, delicate as baby’s breath, deep as the red of the poppies that grow in the Seijoh gardens.

Iwaizumi averts his gaze, but can’t help but look at Oikawa again as he approaches, taking the sword hilt once again as Iwaizumi passes it to him.

“You okay, Yahaba?” Kuroo asks, scrunching his nose up.

“Yeah,” Yahaba breathes, pulling on his collar. “Just moved around a lot trying to find him a pair of pants. I’ll be fine.”

He can smell Yahaba in the air, smell Kyoutani on Oikawa’s shirt, although Oikawa’s scent seems to overtake everything. It’s somewhat overpowering, the way it moves in the air, but Oikawa takes a few steps back, and it starts to fizzle out.

He swallows hard and tries to focus on Kuroo’s scent, which is probably the third least sexy scent to him, right behind his father and mother’s bonded scent of mint tea, and Bokuto’s old scent of straight up dark chocolate, bitter and wholly overpowering. His new bonded scent of orange chocolate, however, is much more palatable. 

But everything smells like Yahaba and Oikawa, Yahaba fanning his face as he nods to himself and gives Oikawa another once over.

“Yahaba, you should probably go sit down,” Kuroo furrows his brow. “You look… hot.”

“I’ll be fine,” He waves Kuroo off, looking around. “Has anyone seen Kyoutani?”

“He’s still out sending a letter to Karasuno that we’ll be there in two days,” Kuroo answers, and Yahaba nods. “Why?”

“Just…” Yahaba blinks a few times, eyes glossing over as he starts to walk away. “I think I need an alpha…”

“Oh no-” Kuroo puts his hands over his nose, and everyone turns to face the movement that falls to the ground next to them.

Yahaba crumples to his knees about twenty steps away, right between them and the group of people watching the scene, holding his stomach and letting out a quiet whine. Iwaizumi regrettably sniffs at the air, the immediate scent that hits him something entirely _vanilla._ Something _sweet._ Something that he could get lost in, bury his being into, plant something in that’s inherently his own into the omega.

_Heat._

_Yahaba is in heat._

He _know_ that Yahaba is in heat. He _knows_ that he has his own husband. He _knows_ that he shouldn’t touch Yahaba, that this isn’t an invitation to take him, but still, his body takes a step forward, the smell of vanilla more than compelling.

He doesn’t want this. He wants to help him. Wants to protect him from the other alphas that might be in the area. But he’s still an alpha. And he’s stepping towards Yahaba because of his scent, because that scent is doing nothing more than _begging_ for an alpha to help him. 

The other alphas have the same idea, and there’s a guard that’s nearby, a guard that’s breathing heavily through her nose, chest rising and rapidly falling with her eyes narrowed towards Yahaba, some of the betas calling out to them to ask what’s going on. 

It’s dangerous. It’s dangerous and Iwaizumi wants to do _something. Anything. Do something._

_Take him for yourself._

_You’re a Prince, after all. They’ll all have to bow down to your will, and you can easily take him right here in front of everyone._

No. 

No, that’s not right. This is wrong. Yahaba is in heat and this is dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’s just as much of a threat as any other alpha, and Yahaba isn’t his, never will be his. 

He smells vanilla.

Go. Take him for yourself. Protect him. Get Kyoutani. Get him a collar. Give him a pup. No. No! Anything but that. Move. Do something. Anything. Yahaba is going to get hurt. Yahaba is going to get hurt by _you._

The alpha gets closer and there’s movement to his right, a streak of red. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter unless it moves towards Yahaba. It is. 

_Shit._

He watches, frozen, as Oikawa dives for the omega, his eyes focused only on the alphas that have started to approach him, his sudden movements creating a sort of sense of a free-for-all that manages to unstick even Iwaizumi and Kuroo from the ground, everything in his body screaming for him to go claim the omega first.

He makes it forward a few extra steps, body heavy but pushing through with every breath before he sees Oikawa dig his fingers behind the first alpha’s shirt collar, catching up to her as she hovers over Yahaba’s shaking body, each whine sending shocks up Iwaizumi’s spine. He pulls back and cleanly rips her away from him, sending her into the dirt a few steps back. 

Somewhere in the animalistic part of Iwaizumi’s brain, the alluring smell of vanilla mixed with the sight of Oikawa begs him to go claim his husband. To bite that pale neck and mark him so that everyone knows Oikawa is _his._ He wants to go up there and claim Oikawa in front of everyone, make Oikawa scream his name with every deep, aching thrust, stretch him around his knot and fill him over and over until he’s leaking slick and cum.

His clothes are uncomfortable against his skin, and he fights the urge to growl at Kuroo when he takes his own step forward, eyes glazed over but fingers moving to pinch at his skin. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to take Yahaba. No one wants to take Yahaba, but Yahaba is crying out for help, and he only knows one way to do so.

Iwaizumi pinches at himself, too, the pain keeping him in control enough to watch Oikawa dip down into a bow, one foot lunged forward in perfect sword stance, missing the swing of a rather brave alpha. One kick, and his foot swings out from underneath him, knocking over the alpha’s legs, landing him on his back as he groans, trying to drag himself away.

Oikawa picks up Yahaba, not enough to fully lift him off the ground, but enough to drag his feet across the dirt and towards the carriages away from everyone. Yahaba gives a small whine, throwing his head back in pain, and the alpha in Iwaizumi’s heart breaks over the pitiful sound. He sets Yahaba down, putting distance between himself and everyone else, his hands and arms waiting idly beside him, his eyes darting around at everyone who might come closer.

He locks in stare with Iwaizumi, and the alpha can’t help but shudder.

His eyes are cold, calculating, softening only ever so slightly as they cloud in a short twinge of embarrassment. He turns sheepish as the alphas keep their distance, never once raising his gaze back to Iwaizumi. Instead, he kneels down next to Yahaba, running a hand through his hair to try and calm him down.

“It is okay, Yahaba. You be okay,” He coos, looking around for something to help him.

By now, the smell is far enough away, far enough out of camp, for Iwaizumi to finally take a step back. He lets out the deep breath he didn't know he had been holding, and finally, _finally_ staggers backwards enough to break free of the pull, break free from the stunned silence and the heavy tension that hangs in the air with the residual scent of heat.

He shakes it off, dragging Kuroo back with him with his teeth clenched, Kuroo choking on his breath as he quickly pulls his shirt collar over his nose.

“Yahaba isn’t supposed to go into heat until well into next week,” Kuroo hisses, turning his back to the Prince and Yahaba, other omegas in the group slowly approaching the pair, kneeling down to help decipher Yahaba’s whines and cries.

They’re mostly for Kyoutani, who still hasn’t returned, who cannot help Yahaba until he does, and the omegas know this. They coddle him, Yahaba’s hands fumbling for the hem of his shirt, face red and tearful, shoulders shaking as he sobs. He’s probably never been with an alpha before, since it looks to be this painful.

The scents the omegas are giving out to settle him are enough to block out the scent of vanilla, and Iwaizumi and Kuroo move to order every alpha towards the back of the camp, the two alphas who had been taken down by Oikawa scrambling to their feet to get away and not face the wrath of their Prince for being close enough to almost take an unbonded omega. 

There’s only six alphas here, and Oikawa had managed to take down a guard and a Dateko translator. With only his bare hands and his bare… foot? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Oikawa had attacked two _alphas_ to save Yahaba, and he had _won._

Sure, they had been in a sort of confused haze, but their instincts to claim an omega might have even made them even stronger, and Oikawa had _won._ He helps the woman guard off the ground, and she spits out a series of tearful apologies, dropping to her knees as she shakes, horrified with what could have happened.

“Kuroo,” Iwaizumi turns his head, Kindaichi helping the translator to his feet, dragging him away and across camp, shaking off his own reaction. The woman joins them, burying her head in her hands, and Iwaizumi looks around at the betas that start moving according to the emergency protocol they had set up in case this had happened.

Kuroo holds his hand up to silence him, “Don't say it, I saw. And Oikawa can _move.”_

Iwaizumi’s brow furrows in worry, “Yahaba almost got attacked and you’re talking about Oikawa?”

“You’re not?” Kuroo gawks, Iwaizumi turning around in time to see Oikawa bring Yahaba a decorated box, offering him the contents. A few of the other omegas go red at the sight, looking away, but Iwaizumi can’t see why. “I mean, the dude just saved Yahaba. I noticed that his footwork with the sword had been rather clean, if not a little weighed down and restricted, but it looked more like the dance moves that I learned when Kenma made me take ballroom dancing classes and oh my god is that a dildo?”

Iwaizumi scrunches his face up at Kuroo’s slight horror and turns his head back to the group of omegas, Oikawa taking a wooden toy out of the box and slightly showing it off to Yahaba, not an ounce of shame on his face. The other omegas look between each other as if to say “what the fuck”, and Iwaizumi can’t blame them. The thing is as big as he is, and Oikawa doesn’t seem disturbed offering it to Yahaba in front of people in the slightest.

And it’s not like toys _aren’t_ used in Seijoh, it’s just…

It’s odd for a Prince to have them. 

To have the wooden or glass toys and not have the real thing. To have the toys and not have literally _anyone else_ in the castle free to help him through his heats. Hell, in Seijoh, alphas, betas, and omegas help each other, and he wouldn’t ever have assumed that Oikawa wouldn’t have had the same luxury, especially with how big Shiratorizawa seems to be on omegas pleasuring their alphas. Because, well, being with an omega in heat is probably one of the best feelings ever.

But what did he think Oikawa _did_ during his heats? The idea of a marriage consummation kind of implies he’s never been with anyone before, so of course he would need external help. What was he expecting? Then again, Iwaizumi hasn’t really thought about Oikawa in heat at _all._ The thought is simply too much to handle, he can barely smell Oikawa without losing his head a little.

And aren’t marriage consummations traditionally meant to happen when the omega is in heat? 

A short ripple of fear bubbles through him.

What happens if Oikawa goes into heat _here?_ Would they have to delay the trip so that he can spend it with Iwaizumi and see it until its completion? Would he have the consent of Oikawa to take him during his heat? Would he understand what Oikawa wants?

He’s getting ahead of himself. 

He’s getting _way_ too ahead of himself.

It’s already been a week since the wedding, and if Oikawa’s summer heat was meant to start for the consummation, it would have started already. He doesn’t show any signs of a heat, doesn’t seem too disturbed by everything that’s happening and the scent of alphas wanting an omega. Instead, he puts the toys back into the box and sets it aside, one of the other omegas moving to return it to the luggage. He runs his hands through Yahaba’s hair, smiling, talking, and calming him down, making sure Yahaba gets some kind of skin-to-skin contact that he needs before Kyoutani comes back.

He turns back to Kuroo, and when the omegas get Yahaba collared and start to move him back to his tent, they start to move towards the back of camp, too.

“His footwork,” Kuroo starts again, still stuck on the promise of Oikawa’s movements. “I think it’s safe to say that he has a lot more potential than we originally thought.”

“I’d agree,” Iwaizumi watches Oikawa hoist Yahaba’s legs up, helping carry him to the tent. And he’s strong, too. Yahaba isn’t exactly tiny or light. How Iwaizumi didn’t see it before… he blames being clouded by his own judgments. So why couldn’t he wield the sword? It’s odd, being able to carry Yahaba but now raise the sword up to his waist for long enough to actually wield it. “Okay, I’ll budge. So what if he can’t wield a sword, he can still move, and that’s gotta be worth something.”

“Not to mention that a possible outcome of the mating ceremony is hand to hand combat, yeah?” Kuroo gives a grin and a nudge with his shoulder, Iwaizumi rolling his eyes.

“I’m not thinking about that right now. We need to find out how to move Yahaba without too many problems.”

“Really?” Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows, Yahaba safely transported to the tent. “Your omega just took down two alphas and you _didn’t_ think about him pinning you down like that too?” Iwaizumi pushes his shoulder, mouth drying. “Okay, yeah, fine. Yahaba is safe, he’s got like three or four people helping him, he’ll be fine. We,” He motions between them. “Need to unpack what the hell just happened with Oikawa’s flexibility.”

“I’m telling Kenma you’re lusting after omegas again. Not to mention _mine.”_

Kuroo snorts, “Oh like he doesn’t look at Akaashi’s ass when he wears those weird tight pants that make Bokuto go crazy,” Realization crosses over his face. “Wait, I should ask Akaashi where he got them. I’d wear them all the time and then let Kenma jump me whenever he wants.”

“You’re disgusting,” Iwaizumi fights off a smile, trailing off his words. “And I had a sneaking suspicion you were a bottom.”

“Alright, hang on-” Kuroo catches his own words and points, but nothing comes out of his open mouth. “Okay, you got me there. I miss my alpha,” He smiles a little. “But Iwaizumi, it’s been a week. Prince Oikawa has shown less and less signs of hating you, and now it’s just weird that you aren’t having like…” He fits his fingers together. “I really think it was just a fuck up in misunderstanding the situation.”

“I am not going to touch him until he gives me the okay himself,” Iwaizumi’s voice drops low, half to punctuate it, half to make sure no one else hears their conversation. His sex life shouldn’t be the talk of the castle upon his return, and he has more important thing to deal with than rumors or court gossip.

Like how his Queen needs special training just to get on the same level of the guards.

He’ll get there, it won’t be too hard to explain the gap or see to it that he gets the training he needs. Oikawa can do this, and Iwaizumi more than believes in his ability to become a Queen.

But Iwaizumi is their top trained operative, and Bokuto, Kuroo, and Suga can only best him on a good day. And without a mate, his coronation only a mere less than six months away, he only has three chances to make Oikawa his own. 

He’s concerned that Oikawa even likes him in the first place, the week of Oikawa’s limited language bringing little clarification. 

They watch as Oikawa exits the tent, putting his hands on his hips and looking around the camp, finding Iwaizumi and coming over with a small bow of his head.

“Yahaba is okay,” He confidently says. “He is needing…” He hesitates, as if the words aren’t the ones he wants to get across. “He is wanting an alpha.”

He turns his head to the side, touching his fingers to his lips as the bitter scent of wilting flowers starts to worry through the air. He watches the tent, his eyes unblinking, unreadable, and Iwaizumi thinks back to the cold eyes he had seen Oikawa don when taking down the alphas.

As if Oikawa shares his thoughts, he marches over to the alphas he threw down, and drops to his knees in apology. 

It’ll take some time to get him to Queendom. A lot of work, a lot of pushing. But Iwaizumi has faith that Oikawa can do it, he has confidence that the man is more than what meets the eye.

But if not, if fate so decides to weave itself into the story Iwaizumi fears, he’ll need to find a new Queen, and all Prince Oikawa will ever be is just a court omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Translations
> 
> Shiratorizawa Language 
> 
> **Pub Scene**  
>  Reo Tooru! Wit onur! - Prince Tooru! What an honor!
> 
> Wit onur Ze Era pozilde zerem wit erar komelmi umeilde. Wit onur, rait! - What an honor to have you (formal you, used with alphas and betas) in our humble restaurant! What an honor indeed!
> 
> Zee num zerem, Ero erem num Reo. - It is really nothing, I am no Prince.
> 
> Hrei wit e lit komelmi, dollum ero Zem num jerelde wit erom jifdan. Num Reo omilie lit eror erelmis. - Thank you for this food, but I cannot let you give it to me for free. No Prince would take from his own people.
> 
> Zee num erelde hirait! Ae onur- - It is not a problem! The honor alone-
> 
> Hrei, ero azulie aat eror komelmi. Umzem komelmi erelie jifdan, Zem onurelie ost wit erar weme, dollum hrei, ero azumie aat eror. - Please, at least let me pay for my own meal. Everyone’s can be free, to honor these guests to our country, but please let me pay for my own.
> 
> Ero num pozilde azu, dollum Ero Ze jerelie derf, Zee erelie nolmi. Hrei, Zem Era jerelae komelmi um, em hrei aat umeilmi. Zem erelde eror erelmis. - I have no money, but I can give you some silk, which should be more than enough. I must thank you, for feeding us all and for your generosity. You are my people.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An understanding.
> 
> A warning.
> 
> And crossing the border.

They make it to Karasuno two days later, most of Oikawa’s time spent caring for Yahaba between waves of his heat, helping clean him up from time spent alone in the carriage, clean him up from time spent with other omegas in the carriage, and making sure he eats something when he’s able to.

This also meant, however, since he wasn’t up for caring for Yahaba in _that_ way, that he’s been traveling exclusively in the Prince’s carriage. 

And it’s been nine days since the wedding. It’s early July, summer is in full swing, his scent seeps out of him with his sweat, and the Prince _seems_ to be affected by it. His body reacts, and Oikawa isn’t dumb. He knows that the Prince gets hard spying on him in the bath, when Oikawa releases his scent when they’re close enough to make skin contact and Oikawa is there, waiting, wanting. He’s never been dumb. He knows what he’s doing and he knows that the Prince reacts to him.

And yet, nothing.

Oikawa doesn’t even expect it anymore. He doesn’t bat his eyes or silently beg for his alpha to take him, he doesn’t wish that Iwaizumi will bring him to bed for more than just sleeping, he gets ready for bed, and he clocks out.

He’s accepted it. 

Looking out at the capital of Karasuno, he remembered all the summers like these he spent traveling with his parents, all in hopes that Oikawa would make friends with their young Prince and perhaps find an omega to marry. He even courted a few of the omegas here, but… life happens. He… he happened.

But being here. Truly being here, brings back memories. Every summer was spent either with Tobio in this castle or with Tobio in his own, and this castle, the Karasuno capital and castle, looks as beautiful as he remembers it. The outer walls are as grey as the weathered stone it’s made of, its age only showing off its beauty with every passing year. 

And the interior is gorgeous, everything kept clean and orderly, columns of stone enforced with an abundance of obsidian mined from the volcanoes that line their coastal islands standing high in the archways as he walks towards the throne room. He mulls over what he remembers of the Karasu language, and holds his hands in front of himself, trying not to shake.

But he’s just so excited to see how Tobio is doing, and he can’t help it.

Kindaichi gives him a side stare, looks at his hands, and cocks an eyebrow. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I am,” Oikawa answers simply. “I am… happy.”

Kindaichi smiles a little, and the Karasuno guards lead them to the throne room. The Prince and Kuroo had gone on ahead to greet Prince Kageyama, Oikawa staying behind to make sure Yahaba got the treatment he needed. 

It’s his job, as an omega, to look after other omegas in heat. He had his own group of omegas and betas that would feed and clean him during his own heats, and he would often check in on other omegas whose alphas couldn't care for them at all times, and this isn’t any different. It’s his job to look after Yahaba, and he bears his responsibility well.

They follow the guard, Ennoshita, and he gets the two other guards to open up the grand doors to a meeting room off of the throne room. They enter, and Oikawa immediately locks eyes with Prince Kageyama and bows his head, a small smile forming on his lips. He greets Kageyama’s promised omega as well, and raises back up to straighten his back.

“Ah, there he is,” Prince Iwaizumi says in native Karasuno, and Oikawa blinks, turning his attention to Prince Kageyama first. “This is my husband-”

“Nice to see you again, Oikawa,” Kageyama interrupts him, caught up in the excitement of it all, looking a little shocked, a little awed, bowing his head to Oikawa in respect. “You look… well.”

“You look well too, Kageyama,” Oikawa speaks casually and folds his hands in front of him, knowing that despite them being childhood friends, Karasuno citizens never refer to anyone outside their families by first name until the individual is married. “You’ve gotten so tall, I was scared you’d never grow into your status.”

Prince Kageyama gives the smallest of smiles. It’s a terrifying one, but Oikawa knows, probably better than anyone here besides the fellow omega, that it’s a genuine Kageyama smile. He returns it, in his own way, and Kageyama almost shivers at the sight.

And oh, what a memory. 

Oikawa almost gets lost in it before he turns his head to the side and meets the gaze of his husband and Kuroo. He shivers himself, and tightens his grip around his wrist, digging his nails into his skin. It hurts, but it’s punishment enough for speaking out of turn. For speaking so casually to another alpha right in front of the Prince. He deserves the way they’re looking at him.

Prince Iwaizumi and Sir Kuroo share in their silent, shocked, and wide eyed stares as they look from Kageyama to Oikawa and back again. Their eyes are hard, hot, intense as if they’re peering right into his very soul and Oikawa starts to sweat under his robes. So much for his last good one, it’ll be ruined with sweat by the end of the day if they continue to look at him like this.

He goes to dig his nails into his skin again, but Kageyama speaks up.

“So, how are your parents?” Kageyama makes idle conversation, his voice just as rigid and stiff as it had been when they were kids. He doesn’t know how to carry a conversation, and with the way the omega’s eyes are sparkling up at him, he can only assume it’s one of the questions that his future mate probably made him prepare before their meeting.

Kageyama was never the best at communication, but on the training field, hell, he’s a force to be reckoned with. A true future King.

“Trying for an alpha,” Oikawa answers, smiling sadly. He hopes they can do it, his mother is at the age that most beta women stop being able to have children, and she might not get through it if she does happen to conceive. “They are well.”

“Uh,” Kageyama looks at his ginger omega, who eagerly reaches a hand out for Oikawa to shake. He takes it in his hand, and looks down at the smaller man, looking over his features to make sure he’s good for Tobio. “This is-”

“Shouyou Hinata,” He greets with a wide smile. “It’s so great to meet you, Oikawa!”

“Likewise,” Oikawa fumbles, the fellow omega shaking his hand a little too enthusiastically. His arm hurts, and as he turns his head to the side, he can see the faintest of smiles dancing across Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“Shouyou,” Kageyama speaks his promised omega’s name like it’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, this softness new, breaking through what Oikawa remembers of his time with the young alpha. “Why don’t you show everyone to their rooms? I have a meeting with Tanaka and-”

“Yeah, of course,” Hinata waves him off with a bright smile, one that’s full of warmth and almost makes Oikawa melt with how infectious and syrupy it seems to be. The omega motions for everyone in the room to follow him as he leads them back out towards the door, and in a flash, the smile turns mischievous. “Just don’t get stuck in your own damn head again, Tobio, actually pay attention to Tanaka and Noya this time.”

Kageyama scowls in irritation, “Like I’d ever lose my head during a meeting, you ass.”

Hinata sticks out his tongue and teases Kageyama, Kageyama pushing at him with his shoulder, turning red as he places a kiss on top of Hinata’s head and promises to see him for dinner. Hinata chuckles at the embarrassment and motions for everyone to follow him, leading them in the opposite direction towards the East Wing, where Oikawa had spent his nights when he had visited. 

He already knows the way, but he follows Hinata as he was told.

“I was really excited to meet you, Oikawa,” Hinata speaks over his shoulder, some of the passing maids greeting them, Hinata flashing a bright smile and a wave. “Tobio may not have shown it, but he was excited to have you back in the castle.”

Oikawa could tell. Kageyama is many things but subtle is not one of them.

“I was rather excited too,” Oikawa responds, Iwaizumi and Kuroo both blinking away their shock. “I haven’t seen him since before I presented.”

More shock. They’re watching him. Prince Iwaizumi is watching him. It makes him feel small.

“Yeah,” Hinata trails off, his voice somber. “He told me about that too. But you seem to be in good hands now. You’re married to a good man.”

“He is,” Oikawa says, his mouth starting to dry as he looks at Iwaizumi.

“I didn’t know you spoke this language,” Prince Iwaizumi speaks up for the first time since Oikawa joined them, and Oikawa turns his head towards his husband. “You speak Karasu?”

“I do,” Oikawa nods, guilt starting to trickle up his neck. “I spent my summers here as a child and picked it up from a tutor to aid in my connection to Prince Kageyama. It is very similar to the Seijoh language and I was able to catch on to the grammar of Aoba quickly.”

His speech is choppy, formal, but it’s the only way he knows how to speak Karasu. His mother had gotten him a tutor during their stays, and the tutor was huge on proper speech. 

But this isn’t the point.

_He and Prince Iwaizumi share a common language._

Hinata continues talking, but Oikawa ultimately ends up tuning him out in favor of thinking of ways to ask Prince Iwaizumi everything that’s been on the tip of his tongue since the wedding. 

“And here is the guest wing, omegas on the right, alphas on the left, and betas wherever they fit,” Hinata shows off the guest wing, pointing to each room. “For space, Kuroo and Iwaizumi can stay in the same room, and Oikawa can stay in here.”

He shows off their rooms, Iwaizumi translating for Kuroo, and Iwaizumi’s face twists in slight confusion.

“Why can’t I stay with my husband? We’re already married.”

“Oh, um, well,” Hinata blanks, trailing off in his response, trying to put it delicately.

Oikawa needs to save this poor child.

“We are married in our countries but we are unbonded and unpromised,” Oikawa explains for him, hoping that it’s okay to answer the Prince despite not having been the one to be addressed. “Karasuno believes that two people may not lie with one another until marriage, but marriage between an alpha and an omega here begins with bonding. By Karasuno standards, we are but only courting.”

The Prince nods as he speaks, and turns his head to summarize it for Kuroo, who apparently doesn’t speak a word of Karasu. The air starts to stale, eager wanting filling out between Oikawa and Prince Iwaizumi as they sneak glances at each other, hope reading across his eyes.

It should scare him, but it’s not a bad kind of urgency. Oikawa almost feels… relieved.

“I should probably get back to Kageyama, that meeting involves me as well,” Hinata bows his head. “We’ll send someone to get you for dinner, and we ask that you respect the tradition of not… um,” He clears his throat, his tone turning less proper as he puts a hand on his hips, looking between the two of them. “Just don’t make love to each other in the rooms during your stay, alright?”

Oikawa starts to turn red at the bluntness of his words, the idea that someone would think they are indeed regularly intimate, and he thanks the gods for Iwaizumi, who answers for him. And yet, his voice seems just as raspy and dry as Oikawa’s throat feels.

“We won’t, thank you, Hinata.”

There’s a short nod given on everyone’s parts and Hinata leaves, Oikawa immediately getting whisked away into Prince Iwaizumi and Kuroo’s room. The Prince looks at him with wide eyes and runs a hand down his face.

“You speak Karasu.”

“I do,” Oikawa says simply. “I see that you speak it, as well.”

“For trade, and alliances,” Iwaizumi explains. “You mean to tell me that we’ve shared a common language this entire time.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement of pure disbelief.

“It seems to be the case,” Oikawa nods, his anxiety starting to spike that he’s done wrong for not telling them. He watches Kuroo watch them, slowly figuring out what’s going on. “It was not needed until now. If it makes a difference, I also speak some of the Inarizaki language.”

Iwaizumi scrunches up his face, holding it behind his palm. Oikawa almost thinks he’s said something wrong, and the Prince starts to laugh. It’s a rumble at first, and he moves to lean on Kuroo, saying something in the Seijoh language that makes Kuroo start to yell at him in his “I told you so” voice.

“We are idiots,” Prince Iwaizumi laughs, moving to sit on the bed. “Oikawa,” He says it so gently that Oikawa nearly swoons. “I am so sorry for this past week, for everything that I’ve done. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about yourself?”

Oikawa’s heart starts to race at what might be coming, and yeah. Maybe he is a little scared of his husband. He’s an alpha, and whatever he asks Oikawa must answer to the best of his ability. But then again, looking into Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes right now, the green soft and… and a little lost… is he really _scared?_

He takes up the Prince’s offer to sit on the bed next to him, Kuroo moving to lean against the wall. He needs to stay here, it is his room, after all, and if he were to leave, someone would come chaperone them instead.

“Of course, Prince Iwaizumi,” He nods, and meets his husband’s gaze, hands folded in his lap.

“I haven’t… hurt you, have I?”

The question comes as a shock. Hurt him? What does that mean? He might have hurt him when he rejected him, but physically? Never. Oikawa opens his mouth to speak, but he catches a glimpse of Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes.

And oh, these eyes could kill him.

They’re sad. Worried. _Scared._ Scared of him. His heart hits like a hammer, and his mouth dries and he suddenly forgets how to speak. Karasu, Shiratorizawan, his limited knowledge of Aoba and Inarizaki’s language, whatever the hell the damn language is called. 

Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes deepen, and Oikawa realizes he’s left the Prince waiting.

“No,” Oikawa answers simply, honestly, a little hoarsely and unconvincing, but it’s the truth. That’s all he has to offer his alpha. The absolute truth. Relief visibly washes over the Prince, and Oikawa speaks again. “You have not.”

“Oh thank the gods,” He looks up, about ready to start crying, and repeats it to Kuroo, who speaks in the same tone of voice he had before, telling the Prince off for something. “Not even when we consummated the marriage?”

Oikawa thinks back to the night, his breathing shallowing out for a split second. Physically, never. The Prince has never _physically_ hurt him. Being rejected, however, being rejected has filled him with immense fear.

“No, you are very skilled with your cock-”

Oikawa cuts himself off upon seeing how bright pink the Prince turns, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, slowly creeping down his neck. Kuroo laughs at him, putting his hands on his knees.

“What did he say?” He asks through his fit of horrendously unhinged laughter. 

“Nothing,” Prince Iwaizumi snaps, avoiding Oikawa’s gaze.

“Did… I say something wrong?” Oikawa squeaks out. “If I have, I apologize. I’ll take any punishmen-”

“Punishment?” The Prince recoils in confusion. “Why would I punish you?”

“I have caused you discomfort-”

“Oikawa, it’s fine,” He gives a small smile. “Really. It’s…” He coughs a little. “It’s, um, it’s a compliment, even.” 

Oikawa looks over his features, his stomach churning and twisting with how horrible and bitter the words on the tip of his tongue are.

“May I ask you a question of my own?”

He asks it before he’s ready. But, then again, he’s been working up to this point all week. He knows deep in the cell of his heart that he could wait a million years and never be ready for this question, but he has to ask it. For his own sake.

Iwaizumi blinks at him. “Of course.”

Here goes nothing. 

And yet, here goes _everything._

“Am I not worthy of being fucked again?”

Iwaizumi chokes on his own spit.

“What?” He squawks, and his reaction only makes Oikawa want to cry more, his face tightening with a sorrowful promise. 

Save it, Oikawa, try to save it, or else you’ll only make it worse.

“I am only confused,” He fumbles for words that are sure to be the most respectful and proper. “You have not used me since we wed,” He licks his lips, just to delay having to ask what he’s scared of getting an answer to. “Am I to be given to someone else?”

Prince Iwaizumi looks at him like he’s either grown a second head or dribbled spit down his chin. It’s not a good look on him.

“Where did you get that idea from?”

Oikawa’s own face starts to heat up, embarrassment growing in the pit of his stomach. Had he misread everything?

“Even with me continuously presenting my body and scent to you, and you reacting physically, you haven’t taken me since the night we wed,” He sinks in a little on himself. “Am I to be given to another alpha when we arrive at Seijoh?”

Prince Iwaizumi mulls over the words.

“No,” He shakes his head, growing more sure of himself. “No, Oikawa, you’re _my_ omega. I… you were presenting to me? Does that mean you had wanted to be taken?”

Oikawa slowly nods, and Iwaizumi lets out a relieved huff of air, looking back up at the ceiling to prevent the few tears that have started to form in the corners of his eyes. He says something in Aoba, probably thanking the gods, the tears starting to dot.

“I really am an idiot, aren’t I?” He laughs a little, the puff of air more like a sad scoff. “I thought I had hurt you, you mean to tell me that the night we wed, you were not crying because you were hurt?”

Oikawa almost starts crying right then and there.

“I broke the rule,” He whispers, biting his lip at the words that leave him. It’s more of a breath of a sentence, not all there, but it gets Prince Iwaizumi to furrow his brow all the same.

“Rule? What rule?”

Oikawa looks up at him, knowing full well that his face speaks his thoughts. He’s sad, disappointed, he hates the fact he made those damned moans more than anything. His own pleasure had gotten in the way of Prince Iwaizumi finishing, he’s sure of it. “I made sounds.”

Prince Iwaizumi nods in confirmation. “You did.”

It makes Oikawa want to burst into tears, but he holds his ground. For all he knows from this same conversation, the Prince hates it when he cries, as well. He bows his head, half in respect, half… well, he’s not sure if he can stand facing his husband, his _alpha_ like this. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. A pathetic excuse for a Prince, a pathetic excuse for an omega.

He holds his tears and speaks through them.

“I am not meant to make them without permission. I had moaned in pleasure at least five times and I had finished without permission. I was a bad omega, and it is only right that I had been rejected-”

“Rejected?” Prince Iwaizumi interrupts, and Oikawa freezes.

The word is awful coming from such lips. A blight on Prince Iwaizumi’s being. Oikawa’s shoulders shake.

“Rejected.”

“Oikawa,” Prince Iwaizumi starts. “You haven’t been rejected.”

Oikawa raises his head. 

It’s a softened green. Concerned, but only and all for him. It’s a green that matches the lush fields back home, and it’s a safe green. 

_It’s a safe green._

“Have I not been a bad omega? I was not given permission to make sounds or to finish or to-”

“Oikawa,” He softly interrupts, his hands clenching the fabric of his pants. “You don’t need permission. You can just do whatever feels good to you. Whenever.”

Hinata comes back almost instantly and tells them that Oikawa needs to get to his own room. They all sheepishly apologize, and Oikawa heads off into his own room, which is too big for just one person, but it’ll be alright for the night. 

He takes a seat on the bed and lays down, letting out a groan in slight frustration, the conversation playing over and over in his head. He turns to his side and looks out at the Karasuno city in the window below, everyone carrying on as usual, living their own lives. 

And everything feels normal. Like he’s back in his guest room when he was but a pup with a wooden sword and a fake crown, sitting on a bed like this and excitedly recounting his day, his parents proud of the alpha or beta King he would become. He lays back on his side and looks up at the blank ceiling.

The room smells faintly of black tea, coming from his robes. It sinks into the sheets, permeates like it has something to prove. He inhales deeply, and exhales even heavier.

Does the Prince really not care about his own pleasure? His, Oikawa’s pleasure, doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant, but if it’s what’s going to bring the Prince pleasure later, he can see himself getting into it. It only benefits them both, after all.

He inhales. Keeps inhaling. Inhales some more. 

Holds it.

He’s lucky to have such a giving and generous alpha. He’s being allowed to experience pleasure, and this almost promises another time. 

Exhale.

_Another time._

Oikawa shivers, his fingers reaching up to graze across his scent glands, his cheek nestling against his hand. He closes his eyes, content, lost in the beam of light that shines over the bed and warms him so perfectly, feeling like a fat palace cat. It’s warm, and it’s nice, just to have some time to himself.

The room smells of tea and honeysuckles. It’s nice. It’s… 

He would like another time, he thinks, if the Prince so chooses to use him.

And for the first time in nearly five years, he _exhales_ a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

\---

Dinner is a small affair, most likely because of Oikawa’s strange eating habits. Iwaizumi has to hand it to him, he _has_ gotten better at handling the addition of another beta to a group, although even that was a feat within itself, but adding more alphas to omegas, especially now that Yahaba eats by himself when he can, is unthinkable.

Kuroo eats first with the other Karasuno nobles that test the food before it’s consumed, and Hinata isn’t sent to summon Oikawa until after he finishes, leaving the three alphas alone in the dining room. Kuroo gets ready to turn in for the night, hanging around to eat Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s food before he does.

Karasuno has their own guard, Tanaka, who intends to do the same, and there’s an idle wait between Hinata’s departure and their own meal.

Prince Kageyama looks like he wants to say something, but every time he opens his mouth, his face twists, reconfigures, and he mulls over it again, looking even more troubled than he had been before. Kuroo and Iwaizumi make idle banter in their native tongue, and Kageyama finally manages to speak up.

“So, Oikawa,” Kageyama starts off. “He’s terrifying.”

Iwaizumi and Kuroo give each other side glances. Kuroo’s eyes read “what the hell is he talking about to get you to look like that” and Iwaizumi sends back a short “shut up and let me listen”. Kuroo waits for a translation, but Iwaizumi is more concerned with the words themselves.

Maybe he had misunderstood.

“Terrifying.”

He says it like a grimace, but he doesn’t mean to. He just can’t imagine anyone calling such a man as Oikawa “terrifying”. Obedient? Yeah. A little sneaky? Iwaizumi can tell that already, especially after learning that he was deliberately trying to seduce him. 

And what even _was_ that? Was he really so dense as to not realize his husband wanted to be taken almost every night that they were together? So dense as to not realize that Oikawa thought he had been rejected because Iwaizumi kept doing exactly that?

Yeah.

Apparently he is.

“Very.” Prince Kageyama nods once in confirmation. “He will be a good Queen for Seijoh.”

Iwaizumi leans forward, more than interested.

“Tooru Oikawa,” He asks slowly, and Prince Kageyama nods again, something Iwaizumi had long ago learned means more than it seems. “Terrifying?”

Iwaizumi sits back and translates everything for Kuroo, who sits patiently, trying to decipher the scene with the total sum knowledge of only Karasu curses that Suga’s muttered under his breath during training. But hey, if they suddenly need to start telling people to fuck off or get off their asses and learn how to hold a sword, he and Kuroo know _exactly_ how to say it.

“Are we talking about the same guy?” Kuroo scrunches up his face. “I mean, it was cool that he was able to take down two alphas, but I would call it surprising or maybe even impressive, not _terrifying.”_

“I agree,” Iwaizumi scrunches up his forehead in confusion, turning back to Prince Kageyama. “You’ve known him for longer than I have, and you know more about him than I do, so what do you mean by that?”

Kageyama straightens his back, his intense eyes only deepening in color, like the angry coastlines that Iwaizumi has only feared sailing on during hurricane season. It’s murky, those eyes, and all too telling. Iwaizumi almost has the mind to shiver. 

_Almost._

“He’s skilled. I haven’t seen him since he presented, since his family immediately started sending out marriage requests and only let him meet with potential mates,” Kageyama explains, and Iwaizumi feels his heart sink, just a little. He hadn’t even met Oikawa until the wedding, and something must have happened to have prevented that.

He fears what, if anything.

Kageyama continues, “He seems… different now. Than he had been before.” 

His eyes trail over the wood of the table, and Iwaizumi starts to take note that his eyes are deepening, his expression falling grim, it isn’t out of intensity. It’s out of memory, out of pure _fear._

It’s the same harrowed, hollow fear that he’s seen at the other end of a sword. The same fear that Oikawa had worn on his features the night they consummated the marriage. His heart sinks low in his chest, so heavy he thinks it might just drop out of him and dissolve into the floor.

He opens his mouth to ask why he fears Oikawa, why his eyes are so dark, why his lip seems to quiver, why his hands slightly shake as they clench into fists. It’s true fear. It’s genuine respect and relief that Oikawa is an ally. The door opens, Oikawa and Hinata entering, laughing as they chat about something. 

Oikawa looks around the room and counts the alphas, as he always does, and his smile falters, if only a little. Food is brought out, still hot and steaming, as soon as they’re seated, and Oikawa wistfully looks down at his plate. 

Kuroo tastes their food, and Tanaka tastes the other plates, and after a few moments, they take their leave. Oikawa’s face starts to brighten when he notices that Kuroo is leaving, just out of happiness that he can eat in comfort. 

He watches as Oikawa uses the chopsticks they’ve provided, forks having been brought for Iwaizumi and Kuroo to use in lieu of their failed attempts to use the damn things. He’s practiced with Oikawa’s in the past week, and he’s gotten almost proficient enough to pick up everything on his plate. 

More practice, then. 

He looks at Oikawa. _Really_ looks at him. 

Is this a man that invokes fear in the hearts of someone else? A Prince that other Princes fear? Is there something here that he didn’t see before, some sort of untapped potential that only Prince Kageyama knows about?

He watches Oikawa drop a piece of meat on his last pair of clean robes.

Maybe not. Maybe he _had_ been different, maybe Iwaizumi chooses to believe his ally, chooses to believe that at one point in time, Oikawa had been terrifying. But whatever Oikawa was supposedly _once_ good at, has, (in his own experience of watching the man go through his days), been utterly stomped out of him, nowhere to be found.

And as the meal comes to a close, and they promise to leave at first light, that peaceful, light night where Oikawa and Kageyama speak and laugh like old friends, and Oikawa finally communicates with Iwaizumi, and Kageyama still shoots those intense, wary glances when he thinks no one is looking, does Iwaizumi start to realize that he might _(might)_ come to regret underestimating his husband.

\---

They left at first light. 

It wasn’t a personal thing, it’s nothing that would have offended the alpha Prince of Karasuno, leaving at the crack of dawn without so much as a goodbye, but with Yahaba in heat, their plans have gotten a little blurry. Yahaba can't be expected to stay at Karasuno for the remaining two days of his cycle, the waves coming further apart than they had been, his awareness between them less fuzzy and wanting, and they need to get him back safely.

Oikawa may have once been the priority, but now it’s to see that Yahaba gets back safely. It’s all to ensure that a lowly omega gets back home, safe and sound.

Kyoutani is more aggressive than usual, and even Oikawa can tell that Yahaba’s going into heat and calling out for Kyoutani without much else to think about had sparked something between them. If Kyoutani and Yahaba had been unsure of their feelings before, then this would surely speed things along.

They haven’t spent this heat together, but with all the conversations they’ve had between waves and the building alpha anxiety that Kyoutani thinks no one sees, Oikawa can clearly understand. He knows. They might mate soon.

Oikawa wonders what the mating ceremonies are like in his new home, if there’s any at all. Now that he’s sure that Iwaizumi is, indeed, still his alpha, he starts to think about what the Seijoh norm is for mating, and even more, what is expected for royals.

All Shiratorizawa mating ceremonies are the same, no matter how high or low ranking the participants may be. In addition to his sewing practice and his other omegan activities, he, like all other omegas, was expected to learn the routine of the traditional Shiratorizawan mating dance. 

He knows that as per Seijoh’s request to have him keep his neckline free during the wedding ceremony, the traditional collar long forgotten in lieu of pulling his robe over his neck to make up the difference, Seijoh must obey one of Shiratorizawa’s requests during the mating ceremony.

He’ll partake in Seijoh’s traditions, whatever they may be, and he will partake in his own. 

It’s been almost five years of dance, about two times a week every other week since he presented. Five years.

Oh how the time flies.

He should be turning twenty-one soon, his birthday within the month, but it’s been the same amount of time since his birthday was even celebrated, so he holds his tongue over it. It doesn’t matter to him, anyways, and it probably won’t matter to the Prince. He doesn't even know when the Prince’s birthday is. He barely knows how old his husband is, somehow knowing that he had just turned twenty-two.

He shakes his leg, itching to move around since he’s been sitting so long, itching to practice the dance since it’s been too long since he went over the steps. Maybe he’s lying to himself, trying to come up with an excuse to get out of the carriage and walk around. He’s tired. It’s been a week and he’s just _tired._

He spent most of the last day of their journey taking an accidental nap, falling asleep next to Iwaizumi and waking up leaning on Kindaichi on the opposite side of the carriage. He doesn’t know how he got in that position, but he’s grateful they let him sleep. 

His leg shakes again, and he’s brought back to trying to remember the steps.

_Five years of dance._

He’s nearly mastered the basic footwork, his coach one of the only betas that could tolerate him, since she had to work with all kinds of omegas from across the kingdom. It helped that he had gone through combat training when he was younger, that particular memory flooding back into his mind when Prince Iwaizumi had given him a sword.

He had almost forgotten what it was like to wield a sword, but holding one with two hands is different from the one-handed swords he’s used to, and his robes alone were too tight around his legs to allow him to get into the correct stance. But still, he remembers parts of it, and the hilt of the sword was weighty in his hands, healed calluses on his fingers burning at the mere memory.

He almost misses it, but it’s not an omega’s place to be on the battlefield. 

He doesn't even know why Prince Iwaizumi had handed him a sword. He thought it was odd, but if it’s what his alpha wanted, then he would gladly oblige. 

His errors had been more than embarrassing, and it ripped yet another robe.

A few yells from outside the carriage rip him from his thoughts, fear starting to take over his thoughts. Have they run into bandits? An accident? He tries to look out of the window, but the cheers and excitement from inside the carriage shake him from his worries.

The yelling is a good thing.

He can tell that much, Prince Iwaizumi getting antsy in his seat, eyes never trailing far from the window. Kuroo and Kindaichi seem to move in anticipation as well, and Oikawa starts to look around for answers.

“We have reached the border,” Prince Iwaizumi explains for him, all warm grins and voice dripping with pride, and Oikawa turns his head even more to look out at his new home. “We’re crossing into Seijoh.”

_His new home._

As soon as they pass over the border, a line of trees among other lines of trees, the air seems to change. It’s like a breath that everyone had been collectively holding suddenly gets let out, and it’s another fresh breath in. Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes seem to light up instantly, and even though everything looks that same as it had for the past few miles of the Karasuno countryside, with the sun shining overhead, it looks different.

There’s a certain glow that cascades over the hills and the flatlands, and the trees…

Oikawa’s never seen so many trees.

He’s used to fields of flowers and vast plains full of hills and green grass so lush it almost looks fake, but Seijoh… Seijoh has _trees._

The forests are dense, the sun shining through the thick of the dark green treetops, shade covering the carriages as Prince Iwaizumi leans out. He smiles, speaking to himself, breathing deeply to take in as much fresh air as he can, letting it settle into his lungs as he lets out a heavy exhale, a huge, dumb smile plastered onto his face.

And his eyes are the same color of the treetops.

Oikawa hadn’t seen it before. 

His eyes were never the lush valleys of Shiratorizawa, they were never precious stones, never the glittering lakes or the stem of a summer rose. They’re the same deep green as the treetops, sparkling like the beams of sunlight that shoot through the gaps in the leaves and the branches, and it’s…

It’s beautiful.

Oikawa stares in awe as Prince Iwaizumi grins, teeth all white and pearly, his demeanor suddenly giddy and if Oikawa dared to say it, a little childish. Oikawa peers out in the small space that he can see between the bottom of the window and what Iwaizumi isn’t covering with his body. Kuroo clears his throat, and Oikawa turns to look, Kuroo nodding his head towards the other window with a small smirk, and Oikawa slides to the other end, raising himself above Kindaichi’s legs and over him, the rattle of the carriage nearly knocking him into his lap.

And he looks.

He looks at everything he can. The thickest points of the tree trunks are bigger than any tree he’s ever seen growing in Shiratorizawa, everything tall and lush in its own way. Deer hop over branches in the distance, some other critters jump and swing through the trees.

Over the sound of the guards talking, over the horse hooves and rattling carriages, he can hear songbirds, all happily tweeting and twittering away, chirping from the skies like the heavens are singing in chorus.

His jaw drops, hangs open, and he lets himself be awed.

It’s beautiful. He can’t deny how _beautiful_ it all is, even if everything he can see is nothing more than a densely shaded road. There’s moss hanging from some of the trees, drooping down over the paths, the men on horseback ducking to avoid it like their life depends on it. It might, because what does Oikawa know?

What _does_ he know about Seijoh?

Well, he knows that they have the most beautiful treetops. Sometimes there’s a gap in the pockets of trees, leading out to glimpses of farmland and flatlands alike, and everything just _looks_ gorgeous to his fresh eyes. It’s like seeing the world for the first time, and nothing could have prepared him for how much of a catharsis mere trees would bring him.

It’s that damned shade of green.

He knows that Seijoh has a great Prince. He’d be an idiot not to notice how much Prince Iwaizumi loves his land, his people. He’s cared for every single person on this trip and he’s done it all with respect, with honor. He understands that it’s not an honor to be a Prince. It never was. The true honor lies in getting to serve the people, and Prince Iwaizumi knows this well.

His smile says it all. 

And… and he knows that Seijoh is different. Different from Shiratorizawa. Different from Inarizaki. Different from Karasuno. It’s new, it’s fresh, it’s _confusing, _but it’s a confusion that’s worth being confused over. It’s worth figuring out. It’s worth…__

__Oikawa looks over his shoulder, at his husband’s sparkling aura, at the trees they pass and how _different_ it is from everything he’s ever known._ _

__And he smiles._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translations this time around! Just a small reminder about [my twitter](https://twitter.com/oikawarights) where I might post wips for this (and my other works) or perhaps some updates that may affect my posting schedule. Thank you all for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa and Iwaizumi arrive at the castle.
> 
> Akaashi runs an errand.
> 
> Oikawa and Iwaizumi clear up a misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two small notes. 
> 
> 1) "dad" and "father" refer to anyone who has fathered a child, regardless of gender, and "mom" and "mother" to refer to anyone who has mothered a child, regardless of gender. Beta men and alphas are typically referred to as fathers and beta women and omegas are referred to as mothers (unless the individual prefers to be called otherwise). Also, "King" refers to alphas and beta men, and "Queen" are for omegas and beta women. 
> 
> 2) This chapter came out super fast but please don't expect them to come out this quickly! I'm on a week long break from college and have the time and oh boy am I using it.
> 
> As always, chapter translations are at the end!

July is bright green in Seijoh. 

It’s two hours of trees and flatlands and mossy trees with long, dark branches that look like open fingers. Two hours of watching Prince Iwaizumi’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight and his body starts to shake with pure excitement and anticipation. Two hours of Iwaizumi rattling off how much time is left in the trip through various landmarks that don’t make much sense. Two hours of Prince Iwaizumi being in love with his country.

There’s a tree that’s slightly thicker than the rest of the small pocket of trees it’s in, and that marks two hours remaining. There’s a small village where everyone drops everything to watch the carriages pass, trying to catch any form of a glimpse of the Prince to mark ninety minutes. There’s a flat marshland from where the ocean’s coast dips into the land to mark an hour. There’s a grove of particularly mossy oak trees to mark thirty minutes. 

And then, there’s an outdoor rest area that they’ve temporarily commandeered to mark twenty-five.

Oikawa stands alone in the bath house area, slipping out of his last clean-yet-torn robe in favor of putting on one of the only two outfits that had been left untouched for the entire trip. It’s a sort of combination between Shiratorizawa and Seijoh’s traditional clothing, all blue and white, the Seijoh kingdom’s colors.

He runs his fingers down the wrap top as he ties it around his body, each stitch obviously done by hand, the light blue and white fabric hugging him yet still sitting loosely. It feels like a robe, it’s comfortable like one, but he’s been given a pair of pants to wear with it, and a new pair of boots. How they knew his size, he has no idea.

Someone in Seijoh obviously knows his home’s clothing styles well, the combination nothing short of beautiful, and Oikawa fits on the boots, looking at himself one final time in the mirror to touch up his makeup. His eyeshadow is light, his blush is light, his lips are almost a natural pink, and he looks mostly like himself. He toussels his hair a little, taking in a deep breath and looking once more down at his outfit.

So this is what a Seijoh noble wears to ride through town. 

It is formal, crisp and clean, the white lace fabric of his hybrid robe meeting the blue in a way that almost swirls together. He looks… good. Weird. Untraditional. But _good._

He exits the wooden building and crosses over the field and through the group that stops to stare to put his satchel of makeup away before heading over to where Prince Iwaizumi is.

And he… kind of looks ridiculous. 

His shirt is nearly frilly, so much unlike everything he’s worn up until this point. There’s golden buttons in the front that keep the blue fabric on top of the white like a sort of loose vest, his sleeves flared as much as Oikawa’s, coming back to scrunch at his wrists. Their colors match, their lace frills match, and among everyone else wearing something of a tunic, they certainly look out of place.

They look regal. 

It’s the first time that Oikawa has seen Prince Iwaizumi look so different from his own people, Kuroo attempting to run a comb through his hair to give him that final proper look. He doesn’t have much luck, which is to be expected when you put someone with hair as wild as Kuroo’s in charge of someone else’s look, and Oikawa extends his hand. Kuroo surrenders and Oikawa takes over instead, grooming his alpha to make sure he looks his best.

“It’s about a thirty minute ride,” Prince Iwaizumi stays still, waving his hand vaguely behind him. The city limits are in sight, and the people traveling outside have started to gather to watch them, whispering amongst themselves. “There might even be a parade.”

Oikawa finishes styling his hair, letting it remain a little ruffled, just to keep a hint of Iwaizumi in there. He smiles to himself when Prince Iwaizumi’s hair starts to stick back up in random places, and runs his fingers through it instead. 

Even his hair smells like black tea. 

“I am excited to see your people,” Oikawa admits. “It has been a while since I have ridden through a city so openly.”

Iwaizumi frowns, just a little, green eyes staring back up at him. Oikawa takes a step back and starts straightening out Prince Iwaizumi’s clothes, his fingers lingering near his scent glands. Oikawa stares at his neck, at how his pulse is thumping beneath the surface of his skin, his hand hovering, and clears his throat, going back to adjusting the fabric.

“They’re here for you,” Prince Iwaizumi says to attempt (and fail) to change the subject, quickly correcting himself. “Me. Us. Everyone will be out to congratulate the new couple. Us.”

Oikawa fights a smile at how awkward and stiff the words come and Prince Iwaizumi hides away by reaching into an unremarkable box that Kuroo holds out for him. The inside is full of plush blue velvet despite the exterior being scuffed up and seemingly worthless. Inside, a woven silver headpiece with a single blue sapphire that hangs down like a teardrop in the center, and around it, a larger non-jeweled woven silver headpiece.

Prince Iwaizumi takes the larger one and places it on his own head, the ring of silver slightly off-kilter as he takes the other ring into his hands, Kuroo slamming the top of the box shut and heading off to help finish off the rest of their preparations. He raises his hands and Oikawa dips down to allow Prince Iwaizumi to place the ring of silver atop his head, the jewel falling perfectly in the center of his forehead.

Prince Iwaizumi sucks in a small breath as his hands fall back down to his sides, and Oikawa reaches up to fix the crown, making sure his husband looks his best, looks fit for his title, as if he didn’t fit the word in every sense without the addition of a crown.

“It looks really nice on you, Oikawa,” Prince Iwaizumi compliments, and Oikawa can’t help but smile. It feels genuine.

“Thank you,” Oikawa returns softly, raising his eyes to meet Prince Iwaizumi’s.

His eyes are gentle, and the green is safe. His breath almost catches in his lungs, but he can’t seem to look away, his hands slowly dropping back down to cross in front of him. How could he look away when Prince Iwaizumi regards him like this, with the world in his eyes, his kingdom in his heart.

He’s a kind man.

Prince Iwaizumi breaks the softened eye contact and turns around to stand next to the carriage coachman, holding his hand out to help Oikawa up onto the platform slightly above the coachman’s head. Kuroo, Kindaichi, and some other guard pile into the carriage itself, and Oikawa heads over, placing his hand onto Iwaizumi’s as he hoists himself up to the platform.

Iwaizumi joins him on the left side, and Oikawa can see _it._

The tip of the castle sits beyond the trees, in the center of a marvellous city, lines upon lines of people waiting outside the city limits just hoping to catch a glimpse of the Prince and his new spouse. He can hear it now, the soft music that starts to play, the cheers as a few people spy the movement of the carriages as the horses start to pull.

There are guards in front of them, to their sides, Yahaba’s carriage and a few extra guards that have come out to meet the group traveling behind them, as usual, and then the storage and more guards. It’s been their formation since the start of the trip, but this feels entirely different, and Oikawa almost tumbles over with the force the horses start their strides with.

“All of them for us?” Oikawa asks as he fixes his position and straightens out his clothing.

“Of course,” Prince Iwaizumi nods, a soft, sturdy grin complimenting his features. His eyes are nearly watering with his joy, and he sits back comfortably, properly, folding his hands in his lap like he’s probably been told to thousands of times before. “Seijoh loves any excuse to throw a party.”

“I cannot say I blame them,” Oikawa jokes, just a little, and Prince Iwaizumi’s grin brightens, the skin around his eyes crinkling and folding.

Oikawa shares in the gesture, the relaxed air that surrounds them, and the carriages steadily continue, the roads smoothing out as the city grows nearer.

The lines of people start sparsely, cheering them on, shouting praises and wishes that Oikawa can’t understand but can fully feel. These people are happy for him, happy for them, happy for their Prince. They wish him well, and with the way Prince Iwaizumi smiles and waves back, Oikawa knows deep in the very core of his being that his alpha is a good man.

Oikawa sinks into himself, just a little, as much as sitting properly can allow, and a twinge of prickling pain starts to take its place within him. He doesn't let his smile falter, for the image of the Prince’s sake, and continues to beam, even if it feels bittersweet.

These people welcome him so much more openly than his own people had in the past few years.

There’s no way that these people don’t know he’s an omega, and ever since he presented, if he had to be carted off somewhere, then it was done in the secrecy of a normal carriage pulled by a single, simple, undressed horse, not even the royal carriage that his parents used to take him to Karasuno in. 

When he used to go out alone, he was welcomed, celebrated, much like he had been at that family pub towards the start of their trip. After his presentation, however, even if he was allowed out every once in a blue moon, no one _cared._ No one celebrated him. No one paid him much mind unless he was standing in the way. He wore an extravagant collar among his newly fitted robes and was constantly escorted by a small group of guards, all to make sure no one would try to take him in public and bring shame to the crown, or to keep him from being so dumb as to wander off or let himself be kidnapped.

People play instruments for their Prince, guards keep them from throwing presents that might frighten the horses or wound the Prince, there’s cheers, smiles, some people even cry out of pure joy at the mere sight of royalty. Prince Iwaizumi waves and greets them all, compliments the music, laughs, smiles, grins, and _lives_ within the life that his people breathe back into him.

He can't possibly feel _jealous._

His side of people stare at him like they’re seeing something beautiful, like he’s the first tulip bloom of the season, when the snow melts away and the green starts to poke through, the dew shining in the sunrise, looking like a field on fire. They gasp and gossip and whisper, even with smiles on their faces, and Oikawa tries not to cringe.

That’s the reaction he’s used to.

The gossip, the horror in the eyes of people as they realize that they’ve just addressed an omega so formally. 

It’s suffocating.

His parents hadn’t made a formal announcement. Months after he presented, after his second heat when he was sent to town to shop for his own heat toys, his parents not wanting to deal with his pathetic cries for an alpha, his people had seen his head poking out of the circle of guards, happily greeted him, and then looked on in horrified shock when he would greet them back as he always had, collar and robe on display.

News spread quickly.

The local teenagers that once wore the honor of wanting to challenge a Prince made remarks about how they should have done so since they could have easily won. The local shopkeepers wouldn't let him buy anything without a guard handling the money, and questioned why they ever sold to him in the first place, since he would have never been so good at keeping track of money. His own people would boast about how they could try to secure an ascended place in line for the throne if they could put a pup in him, and after a while, Oikawa just gave up.

It was safer in the castle, where such snide remarks were met with hushes as to not be heard by the King and Queen, punished by threats against the current King and Queen, and his days could be spent doing activities he learned to enjoy doing. Little by little, he lost his love of going out to the city to be among the alphas and betas, as it just wasn't his place of belonging.

His place is inside the castle, not among the people.

Prince Iwaizumi sends him a quick look, his smile dropping a little, and Oikawa can suddenly smell his own scent souring and wilting at the memory. Black tea reaches out for him, and Oikawa lets it wash over him, lets it surround him, and there’s warmth on his hand, intertwining itself with his fingers.

“Are you okay, Oikawa?” Prince Iwaizumi strokes his thumb over the back of Oikawa’s hand, and goosebumps shoot up and down his body. “You’re nervous.”

“Perhaps too many people,” Oikawa figures, his lips forming a wry smile, and Prince Iwaizumi gives a short nod in understanding. He tears away to greet people on his own, but his hand remains firmly locked within Oikawa’s. The scent of black tea remains. It’s warm, freshly brewed, like the jasmine tea that was always brought to him when he would spend his nights in the library reading old fairytales and myths to keep his ever-present knowledge of writing “fresh”. 

His parents insisted on it, since the nights would be late, or long, or cold, and they firmly believed that _anyone_ deserves a nice, hot cup of jasmine or black tea. It was something he had always shared with them, and the mere smell is comforting, like the first sip on a freezing night or one of his mother’s hugs when he was a child.

His hand is warm, and the smell of honeysuckle stops its wilt, blossoming sweet and faint. 

The crowds only get larger, but Iwaizumi’s hand remains interlocked with his own throughout the entire ride, only parting to wipe away the layer of sweat that the hot, humid air has started to create between them.

July is warm in Seijoh, as it is in Karasuno, but Oikawa can feel the coast in the air. He can feel the summer storms over the sea and the boggy water droplets hanging around him. It’s static, heavy and suffocating, but somehow a breath of something new.

It’s beautiful out here, even though the trees have started to dot out of existence, turning into small clusters within parks among the rows upon rows of shops, schools, and neighborhoods. Children are playing, their parents watching the carriages pass, and Oikawa can’t help but smile to himself.

Children have never cared much for status. Someone could be a royal, or a commoner, an alpha, a beta, an omega, and a child has no care. It’s taught, learned over time. But children, the ones playing and dancing to the music that melds into one fluid song, running around with paint on their faces and fake crowns on their heads, they have no cares for anything other than whatever game it is they’re playing.

It’s refreshing, and Prince Iwaizumi catches him staring at one of the wooden playgrounds as they pass, waving to their parents as they greet as many people as they can. 

“Oikawa, I really do think you’re going to like Suga and Akaashi,” Prince Iwaizumi’s voice tears him back to the present and Oikawa meets his eyes, which hold something knowing. “They’re two omegas that I trust to take care of you while you settle in.”

“Oh?”

“Akaashi is from Shiratorizawa, you’ll be spending some time with him to learn our language, and Suga…” He trails off, trying to think of the words to say. “He’ll help you fit in with everything else.”

“I look forward to meeting them,” Oikawa says simply, raising his head to look out over the crowds as the castle draws nearer.

There’s large gates and fencing that keep the crowds out, open but heavily guarded, with tens of guards standing to anticipate their arrival. Everything is uniform, their stance, their facial expressions, their outfits, their look of pride they wear as they welcome their Prince.

He’s been gone for a month. A month without their Prince, a Prince who returned with a husband, a future Queen, and their pride and joy reads through their eyes. Oikawa feels his heart thump in his chest and his fingers curl over Iwaizumi’s hand. Prince Iwaizumi sends him a look of shock of how he had initiated something, looks down, and Oikawa almost takes his hand away with an apology before Prince Iwaizumi clasps their fingers together, offering reassurance.

Oikawa almost melts right then and there, knowing that it’s okay to hold the Prince’s hand without asking.

They travel down the paved road and are met at the stairs by a group of people, with whom Oikawa can only assume is Prince Iwaizumi’s mother or father, the current King or Queen, standing among her guards and some other important figures. Everyone is dressed formally, Iwaizumi’s parent wearing a crown not unlike their own, but Oikawa knows that it might all just be for show. 

The regency outfits he and Prince Iwaizumi are wearing are only for show amongst the citizens, like the robes he had to wear for casual days inside the castle versus the extravagant pieces he would wear in public. Not to mention he’s spent the past eleven or so days with everyone in casual clothing, so he can only assume that those are the clothes he would be expected to wear on a regular basis. She smiles when she sees them, grinning broadly, and Prince Iwaizumi beams at the sight of her.

“Te re yeake dom meve feis u reineke,” The woman speaks, somewhat teasing, and Oikawa can smell the bonded scent of mint tea hanging in the wind around her, although the mint seems to be fading. 

He frowns, and knows that this alpha has lost her omega. 

He also knows instantly that this woman is Prince Iwaizumi’s father. 

His stomach drops, just a little, and anxiety starts to settle in. He needs to make a good first impression. This is the King, this is _King Iwaizumi,_ and it’s crucial that he shows her that they’ve made a good choice marrying him off to her son.

“Vi nish kweseke demonsesh vi u spoz,” Prince Iwaizumi smiles, gesturing to Oikawa. Oikawa bows his head, and everyone around the King and within their traveling group starts to move to get the horses to the stables, move the luggage, and everything of the like. 

Kuroo bows to his King before moving to first hug a small alpha, placing a giant, happy kiss on his cheek, promptly getting hugged by another alpha who nearly squeezes him to death. Oikawa stares at the alpha couple as they kiss again, blinks, and then minds his own business. Odd, certainly not something you’d see back home, but Kuroo seems overly happy, and that’s all he should really care about.

Prince Iwaizumi jumps down and holds his hand out for Oikawa to take, helping Oikawa down from the carriage as it starts rolling off on a side road that leads around the castle.

And oh, the castle itself is gorgeous. It’s huge, but it’s huge in the way that’s full of life and activity, and even from the outside, just standing in the shadows of the front entrance, he can tell that the castle houses and employs hundreds upon hundreds of people, the greenery surrounding them probably housing even more. It’s busy. 

“Weh leve hale Karasale ro Shiratorizale,” Prince Iwaizumi explains through a wistful grin, and his father looks Oikawa over, as if she’s shocked by whatever he had said.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to source Akaashi and Suga, then,” She speaks in Karasu, nodding her head in respect towards them both. 

“Already on it.”

King Iwaizumi tuts, “You look weary, Hajime, I know from your letter that Yahaba went into heat, but you should have rested more in Karasuno.”

She steps forward, reaching her hands up to grab at Prince Iwaizumi’s cheeks, forcing him to bend down as she scents him and kisses his forehead. He rolls his eyes at the action but hugs her, and Oikawa’s heart grows fonder, knowing that Prince Iwaizumi loves his father so dearly as this one hug shows. 

King Iwaizumi moves over to Oikawa and holds out a hand, which Oikawa graciously takes. She pulls him down, and scents him, too, the smell of mint tea and the residual scent of Prince Iwaizumi’s black tea washing over him. Everything about it is comforting, refreshing, and everyone seems to laugh fondly at the prospect of their King so openly scenting someone she barely knows. 

“Pasa,” Iwaizumi groans, looking slightly embarrassed by his father’s actions.

“It’s so great to meet you, dear,” She whispers in his ear. “I’ve always wanted an omega son.”

Oikawa can’t think of anything to say. 

His heart slams against his chest and then stops altogether, her words swimming in his ears as he tries to decipher them. Had he heard her correctly? Is his brain failing to translate everything correctly?

He feels lightheaded, and King Iwaizumi pats his cheek, giving him a knowing look.

“Weh mie zuer, Hajime,” She coos. “Te zepake e meve bei koize.”

Prince Iwaizumi laughs nervously but agrees with what she’s said, turning and rejoining her guards at the bottom of the stairs. She gives everyone a few orders, and Prince Iwaizumi motions for Oikawa to follow him as he meets up with Kuroo and the other alphas. 

“Oh,” His father turns around, speaking in Karasu. “Before I forget, Suga still has two days of his heat left, so the new recruits will start their real training a little late this year. Oikawa should sit in to learn the basics.”

“Why would he need to-”

“Do not lie to your father, Hajime,” She warns, the air turning cold. “I had a rather… informational chat with Akaashi about Shiratorizawa,” Her eyes darken, and Oikawa and Iwaizumi shiver in unison. “I think it would be best for everyone if Oikawa were to train directly under Suga before joining your generals, wouldn’t you agree?”

It’s not a question. 

Oikawa doesn't know what kind of training he’s to do, but since Suga is an omega, then he knows that it’s probably some kind of omegan training. 

Relief starts to spark within him.

He knows what that entails. He knows that omegan training most likely means everything he went through when he was back home. Sewing, nursing, gardening, dancing. Hell, they might even let him cook, which would be more than magical. He misses cooking his own meals, even if it was meant to be a punishment for being so audacious as to miss dinner with his parents.

These are things he knows how to do, and it brings him a sense of comfort.

King Iwaizumi heads off towards the left wing, and Prince Iwaizumi is left with Oikawa and the three alphas, heading towards the right wing. Servants bow their heads as they walk, and Oikawa can’t help but watch his husband greet his staff with the same joy he had when he was greeting his people.

He smiles at each and every one of them, alpha, beta, and omega alike as they pass by, every single one of them also trying to catch a glimpse of Oikawa, bowing their heads to greet him, too. He tries his best to greet everyone back, and the warm, green eyes of Iwaizumi only egg him on.

His husband is a kind man.

“Oikawa,” Prince Iwaizumi says as they push into a room off of a hallway in a detached building where there’s increasingly more servants and commonfolk than guards. The room is empty, with a small, circular, wooden table in the center, the walls lined with bookshelves and children’s drawings. “Do you think you’ll be okay on your own for a while?”

Oikawa nods, urging him to continue. 

“I was going to introduce you to Akaashi _and_ Suga, but Suga is unfortunately in heat right now, so you’ll have to meet him later,” Iwaizumi goes on a small tangent, and pulls one of the guards that had been following them up to his side. “This is Bokuto, he is one of my generals, along with Kuroo, as you know,” He gestures over to Kuroo, who has moved to the side of the room with the smaller alpha. The alpha scowls at the dumb smile Kuroo gives, but pulls him down to scent him nonetheless, fitting himself into Kuroo’s arms.

Oikawa bows his head to Bokuto, and Prince Iwaizumi continues.

“As I said before, Akaashi is from Shiratorizawa, as well, and he’s agreed to serve as your language teacher during your time here, just until you get used to everything and being on your own. He should be here soon…” He trails off and asks Bokuto a question in his native language, Bokuto responding with something that seemingly satisfies him. “He’ll be giving you a tour, apparently. I have to go meet with my father and some other people, so I won’t be able to see you until dinner, is that alright?”

He raises an eyebrow, truly questioning, and Oikawa thinks it over.

If a tour is what his alpha wants, then he’s completely fine with it.

“Of course,” He nods, and Prince Iwaizumi gives a look of pure relief.

“Alright, and I’m so sorry to leave you like this, if I could give you the tour, I would,” His eyes carry a faint twinge of sadness. “I’m going to leave you with Bokuto until Akaashi arrives, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Tonight,” Oikawa confirms, and Iwaizumi gives him one last look, making a small motion with his arms towards Oikawa, but deciding against it last second, turning his head to look at Kuroo and the other alpha in the room.

One more look at Oikawa, another look at Bokuto, and the Prince leaves, the room suddenly feeling rather empty. He looks around at the children’s drawings, and wonders what kind of room this is when it’s in use.

“Uh…” Bokuto starts, his face twisting as he folds his hands together in front of him. “Welcome, Prince Oikawa,” He greets in Shiratorizawan, miming the words as he speaks. “My… Akaashi going is help you… in castle? He speaks your tongue.”

His pronunciation is a little wonky, his grammar isn’t perfect, but the alpha is trying his best, and Oikawa appreciates the effort. There’s some thought to his words, and Oikawa can only guess that his omega has taught him some phrases in anticipation of Oikawa’s arrival.

“He is teacher,” Bokuto simply says, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Very smart. Very nice. He is beautiful.”

Bokuto’s grin only widens while he speaks, pure love dancing across his golden eyes. He takes a seat in one of the chairs and Oikawa does the same, Bokuto trying his best to hide his smile, lips twitching, only to fail and smile wider. 

“You are going to love him.”

There’s so much joy in his eyes that Oikawa can’t help but believe him.

Behind him, the door opens, and Bokuto shoots up out of his chair and runs to the man that enters, barely giving him enough time to greet Oikawa. The man, presumably Akaashi, laughs as Bokuto lifts him up in a hug, and Oikawa can see the fresh bond marks that peek out from under their collars.

Ah. 

That makes sense. They’re recently bonded and can’t stand to be without each other for more than a few hours at a time. Oikawa reaches up and adjusts his shirt collar, catching a whiff of his own smell mixed with black tea.

Is this what he’d smell like when he’s bonded?

The thought feels like a carriage crash, and he stands idly as Bokuto scents Akaashi, Akaashi rubbing his cheek against Bokuto’s as they embrace, his eyes catching Oikawa’s. He clears his throat and pats Bokuto on the back, and Bokuto sets him down, kissing his forehead before sending them off with a small goodbye and ducks out of the room.

Akaashi straightens up his clothing, his outfit slightly more formal and traditional than Oikawa had seen the travelers wear, and Akaashi gives him his full attention.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Oikawa,” He bows his head, a small smile gracing his lips. Oikawa somehow gets the feeling that it means more than just a small smile, his eyes beautifully piercing in their apparent excitement. “I assume your trip was well?”

“It was long,” Oikawa admits, the words flowing freely from his tongue. He may be nearly fluent in Karasu, but it still takes immense amounts of concentration to get the grammar correct. His home language is… freeing. “But it was nice to see the countryside.”

“It always is,” Akaashi agrees, gesturing around the room. “I don’t get outside the castle walls much, so I do appreciate getting to visit the city, the coast, the trees, and even the ability to walk around for a tour like this.”

“Sir Bokuto said you were a teacher?” Oikawa makes idle conversation, running his finger along the smooth surface of the table.

“Court scholar,” Akaashi corrects, Oikawa hiding his surprise. “But the children’s instructor retired last year and we’ve been searching for a new one, and I’m here to replace her for the time being.”

“Children?” Oikawa muses, looking around the room. “Whose?”

“Guards, servants, the children of families who live on or close to the grounds. Just a few hours a day, but I cherish spending time with them,” He smiles, and opens the door for them. “Now, before it gets to be dinnertime, there’s much to see. Care to follow me?”

Oikawa nods, and follows him out of the door.

\---

Akaashi knows more about everything than Oikawa had anticipated. He knows that Akaashi is a court scholar, but the thought of him being an omega blocks that, makes it hard for him to fully grasp that someone of their shared status would hold such a position.

It seems to be a trend.

Over the almost two hours they spend together, Akaashi takes them around the grounds, through the detached buildings that house some of the guards, the live-in servants and chefs, one or two of the fields where potential guards train, each field used for a different style of combat, the stables, and through the parts of the main castle where only royals get to go. 

There’s no restriction based on gender, only status, and they walk freely through the dining halls, the throne rooms, the meeting halls, and the bedroom wings. 

Prince Iwaizumi has his own hallway, his, no, _their_ room at the end with only two rooms at the front for Kuroo and Bokuto, as well as the alpha Kuroo is courting, Kenma, and Akaashi. Akaashi even shows Oikawa his own bedchambers, and says that he’s allowed to enter whenever he wishes, so long as he knocks.

Oikawa would say the same, but he doesn't think he has that kind of clearance over Prince Iwaizumi’s room, and the alpha is already so kind as to let Oikawa share. He looks at the grand doors that lead there, wondering what lays just beyond them. 

He touches his fingers to his neck and looks back at Akaashi.

“Is there a garden here?” Oikawa clears his throat and mind of his thoughts, looks around, noting how good it feels to speak his native tongue with someone. It’s been so long, and although he’s glad to learn the language of the land and communicate with his alpha in another, speaking to another Shiratorizawa omega in their native tongue is incomparable.

“We do have a garden, but it might be a little… different… compared to what you’re used to,” His voice is thick, a small lie, a coverup. “And it’s used as more of a resting place for training guards,” Akaashi explains, leading them back through the hallways. “I do miss the flowers of Shiratorizawa.”

It’s sad. He says it so sadly, voice so small that Oikawa has to strain just to hear it.

People bow to them as they walk back towards the right wing, the East Wing, and Oikawa almost convinces himself that they’re bowing at him and not to the alpha guards that have been following behind them. The first looks he gets are out of shock, whispers following as he’s studied and observed by everyone who passes.

They pass through an open hallway with arches that look outwards instead of walls, the left side opening up into a small, yellowed garden, the right opening to a giant field where guards train with wooden sticks, led by a few generals. Sir Bokuto is one of them, and the smell of orange and chocolate starts to waft through the breeze, Akaashi’s eyes turning fond as they stop to watch.

“He seems like a good alpha,” Oikawa offhandedly mentions. 

“He’s an idiot,” Akaashi eyes shine, and Oikawa gives him a side glance. Is he allowed to speak against his alpha like this? They are speaking in a language only the two of them can understand, but something, everything, about it feels wrong. Goosebumps crawl up his body at the thought of bad mouthing Prince Iwaizumi, and he tunes back into Akaashi. “But I love him.”

“He’s strong, with the biggest heart for almost everyone he meets. You say one word to him and he becomes your closest friend,” Akaashi leans over the railing, his eyes focused only on Bokuto. “As annoying and as _bright_ as he is sometimes, I can’t imagine a life without him. He’s been there for me since I came to this kingdom.”

His smile twitches, the orange in his scent faintly souring. His eyes gloss over, and Oikawa turns away, wanting to give Akaashi some space. There’s a _garden_ here, the mere thought filling him with joy.

Oikawa takes a step back, a weight hitting his leg, almost knocking him over. He does, however, knock over said weight, and a young child falls to the stone floor, holding her head with her hand. She curses fouly in Karasu, and Oikawa blinks down at her, the child’s hazel brown eyes looking up to meet his own.

His heart slams against his chest, almost stopping entirely, and he immediately kneels down, hurriedly checking for injuries. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asks in Karasu, looking around for someone who might be able to help, or to see where she had come from, and looks back down at the child.

If she speaks Karasu, she must belong to some kind of visiting noble. How she got all the way out here to the training grounds, Oikawa has no idea, but the air is filled with the smell of irises dancing in the soft breeze, and the girl is calm, her knees safe, if a little dirty.

“Mizuki!” A deep voice calls, and everyone, guard, scholar, and Prince turns to face the panicked man that runs up to the child, her hair the same dark brown, her nose and cheekbones morphing into the ghost of his own, and Oikawa knows that he’s dealing with a worried father.

Despite the intense worry, there’s no scent in the air, and Oikawa figures that he’s a beta, and bows his head. 

“Daichi,” Akaashi greets, and starts introducing Oikawa. “Prince Oikawa, this is Sugawara Daichi, the husband of our head trainer and battle strategist.”

Oikawa bows in greeting, and Akaashi says something about him, something about the Karasu language, and Daichi bows his head back.

“Prince Oikawa,” He sputters to greet him. “It’s such a huge honor to meet you,” He speaks in Karasu, getting his daughter to bow her head with him. “I apologize for my daughter running into you, she’ll try to be more careful.”

He sends his daughter a warning glance as they raise their heads.

“She is quite alright,” Oikawa smiles, bringing his eyes back down to Mizuki, who holds the stars in her eyes. “Children need space to run, do they not?”

“You’re really pretty, Mister,” Mizuki confidently notes, looking up at Oikawa. “Like mommy.”

Daichi forces a little laugh and reaches down to scoop her up, holding her in his arms, muscles straining under her weight, but by the gods, can Oikawa see that he’d rather chew off his own foot than admit his daughter is too grown to be held. He looks a little embarrassed, too, and Akaashi speaks up, the two of them conversing in Aoba. 

They take their leave, bowing again to Oikawa, and Akaashi waves them off.

“I’m surprised he’s awake,” Akaashi offhandedly mentions, his face scrunching up in slight worry, tapping his fingers to his lips. “Not only is his husband in heat, but it’s his first since giving birth.”

The rest goes unsaid.

Betas already have trouble keeping up with the stamina of rutting alphas and omegas in heat, and the first few heats after birth are said to be as bad as the ones someone has when an omega first presents, not to mention that there are at least two children to look after. Akaashi is right, he _should_ be sleeping.

But then again, even from here, as they walk away, Oikawa can see the smile on his face as his daughter gets set on the floor and tries to get him to play with her. He must be beyond exhausted, but he just can’t say no to her.

Oikawa swoons over him, just a little, and turns back to the training grounds, watching as Bokuto throws someone over his head onto their back, throwing a leg over the recruit’s body and climbing over him

“That must be fun in the bedroom,” Oikawa mumbles, and Akaashi covers his mouth, his eyes going wide. Oikawa almost apologizes, but Akaashi starts to giggle, his eyes crinkling, shining, as he gives a small nod.

“I was not expecting you to be so vulgar, Prince Oikawa,” He speaks through his laughter. “But I should have known. Shiratorizawa always was a little blunt,” They watch Bokuto hold the recruit down, restraining their wrists with one hand before he climbs off, fanning himself in the heat. “But I’d have to say you’d be correct. I’m quite lucky,” He hesitates, as if sharing a secret, as if he’s unsure if his next words are okay to say. “But how lucky you are with Prince Iwaizumi being even stronger.”

Oikawa’s heart wrenches, and his smile starts to fade. He starts to frown, dread crawling up his shoulders up towards his neck. “I wouldn’t know.”

“What?” Akaashi blurts in his shock.

“I wouldn’t know,” Oikawa repeats, meeting Akaashi with a sad close-mouthed smile. “He has only fucked me once, the night of our wedding, and he didn’t even finish. I am a… I seem to be a bad omega.”

The words choke him up, and he brings his attention down to his trembling hands. He takes on into the other and tries to rub his thumb over the back of his hand, but the action is no longer comforting.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Akaashi continues cautiously, as if treading on eggshells. “Why not?”

“I had been crying,” Oikawa answers simply, and Akaashi’s gaze darkens.

“Did he make you cry?” He asks, his voice low.

Oikawa shakes his head, and some of the light returns to Akaashi’s face, the latter blinking, breathing in some relief. 

“I broke the rules,” Oikawa explains, and confusion, then thin realization, passes over the fellow omega. “I moaned. Loudly. Prince Iwaizumi has already informed me that it’s okay, that I am allowed to make such sounds without permission, but even with my trying to seduce him this past week, he has not acted on anything.”

“Nothing?”

Oikawa solemnly shakes his head.

The Prince probably doesn't want him, even though they’ve set up new rules. He’s a bad omega. That’s probably what it all boils down to. Prince Iwaizumi had set up new rules but even then, he hasn't had to use them.

A hand rests reassuringly on his shoulder, and Oikawa turns his head to look at the fellow omega. Akaashi smiles, but Oikawa can see right through it. It’s not the small smile where his eyes shine, or the lovestruck one he watches Bokuto with. This is a mask. It’s overly-friendly, sickeningly sweet. The air smells like bitter citrus and burnt cocoa. 

“Oikawa, would you like to sit in the gardens while I go run a quick errand?”

\---

Iwaizumi runs his finger over the list of names for new recruits, going over the positions to be filled, how many people they’ll send home or assign to positions at the end of each checkpoint, Kuroo, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa droning on about things that need to get done.

The door flies open, and Akaashi storms in.

“Akaashi?” Iwaizumi gapes. “Aren’t you supposed to be with-”

“You haven't slept with him?” Akaashi closes the door behind him, his eyes set ablaze. “Eleven days together and you haven’t slept with him?”

Iwaizumi stares, shivers like a child who’s being scolded, and Akaashi crosses his arms over his chest, expecting an answer. His mouth goes dry.

“The bath house doesn't count,” Kuroo adds with a hum, and Iwaizumi suddenly feels small, staring into Akaashi’s cold, unfeeling eyes. No wonder both his students and Bokuto are so well behaved. Kuroo’s face scrunches up. “Really? Not even once? I thought for sure you two would have snuck something in, especially after your conversation in Karasuno.”

“Oh?” Hanamaki grins like an imp, eyebrows wiggling. “What kind of conversation were you having in Karasuno?”

“If I had to guess, it was probably about fucking,” Matsukawa monotones, his eyes overly amused with the situation.

“I don’t understand how my sex life is any of anyone’s business,” He tries to cover, but Akaashi’s eyes burn even brighter. Wrong thing to say. A very, _very_ wrong thing to say.

“He comes from a culture where his entire sense of self worth is based on whether or not he’s able to get you to cum,” Akaashi says bluntly and puts his hands down flat on the table. “You may not have rejected him, and I respect you so much for wanting to get his consent, my Prince, but you are dealing with a new culture, _his_ culture,” His eyes read ‘my culture’, too. “And you have to understand that consent isn't a concept in Shiratorizawa. An alpha will take their omega as they please, and that’s what’s seen by _everyone_ as the perfect, healthy relationship.”

Akaashi is shaking. Iwaizumi would be an idiot not to see the anxiety and fury as it works down his body, the overpowering, foul scent of bitter anger exuding off of his body.

“Prince Oikawa doesn’t want to tell you when and how he can be taken in the bedroom, he wants _you_ to tell _him_ when _you_ want to take him. Omegas are meant to be used in Shiratorizawa, as awful as that is, but if you truly want him to be happy, truly want him to feel loved and safe and _happy,_ you’ll simply have to go along with it. Just until his self worth, his sense of happiness, my Prince, no longer hinges on whether or not you decide to fuck him.”

Iwaizumi stares, and Akaashi’s face is red, his eyes are watery, and his hands are shaking. The smell has only gotten worse, and everyone in the room throws their hands over their noses, trying not to take in the scent of a distressed omega. The alpha in him weeps, both at the smell and the thought of Oikawa crying under him, then at the memory of Oikawa’s pained disappointment when he had to get under the covers every night they slept in the same bed.

He’s a terrible alpha.

“You can’t just fix this with words, or in a day, you have to work with it, you have to constantly show him and remind him that it’s okay to feel things for himself,” Akaashi grips the cloth over his chest, wringing it in his fist, his knuckles on the table white. “It might even take years to convince him that he’s worth it.”

He’s breathing heavily, and Iwaizumi feels the weight of his words, the weight of such urgency, truly hit him.

“What do you propose I do?” He dumbly asks, visibly watching as the muscles in Akaashi’s forehead twitch at his question.

“Iwa,” Matsukawa slaps a hand on his back, shaking his head. “My sweet, dumb, Prince Iwa. Sounds to me like you gotta fuck your husband.”

Hanamaki adds a little whoop, and Kuroo continues his look of disbelief that he hasn’t done so yet. Akaashi sucks in a deep breath, and calms himself.

“I know it’s vulgar, and it’s certainly not my place to say,” Akaashi takes in another breath, his hands quivering. “But in my opinion as someone who can speak his language, understand his culture, I would highly recommend that you _mend_ this misconception. Tonight.”

Iwaizumi blows air out of his cheeks. “So I just need to have sex with him again?”

Akaashi straightens his clothes out. “Precisely.”

“Tonight?”

“Preferably.”

Iwaizumi doesn't even have to think about it.

“Done.”

\---

The garden needed work.

That’s all Oikawa can really say about it.

Everything was overwatered, underwatered, barely weeded, and the plants, the plants that no one could see or cared to care about, were mostly dead or dying. Everything was dry, uncared for, nearly abandoned as the guards watching over him and the recruits taking a break trampled over the flattened yellowed bushes.

It broke his heart to see.

He leans down to cradle the leaf of a single red flower that’s growing between the stones, struggling for water and light. He sighs to himself, brushing the hanging sapphire out of his face as footsteps approach.

It smells heavily, almost too heavily, of orange chocolate, and he lifts his head to see both Bokuto and Akaashi standing before him, Bokuto wiping sweat off his brow and cleaning himself up, Akaashi motioning for him to stand.

“It’s time for dinner, you’ll be eating with me, Bokuto, and Prince Iwaizumi tonight.”

“Not Sir Kuroo?”

Akaashi offers a smile. “Bokuto holds the same position.”

“Ah,” Oikawa bows his head to the alpha, and stands to his feet. 

Bokuto dismisses the guards, and they stand at ease, Bokuto walking behind him and Akaashi as they walk back towards the West Wing.

“How was the garden, Prince Oikawa?”

“Dead,” Oikawa returns, and Akaashi nods sadly. “I would like to see it thrive.”

“Do you garden?” Akaashi asks, curiosity gleaming behind his eyes.

“I took care of the one back home,” Oikawa confirms. “Not much else to do. I’ll need an umbrella if I decide to spend time out here.”

Akaashi hums in agreement and understanding. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

“Keiji,” Bokuto starts, and the two of them start up a conversation, Oikawa listening idly as he lets himself be led to the dining hall.

It’s smaller than Oikawa had been expecting, the table only able to fit around six people at a time, and he assumes that there’s something bigger for bigger events. Prince Iwaizumi is standing, making conversation with two beta guards who seem to be mocking and teasing him.

His crown still sits upon his head, and Oikawa feels better for having kept his own on, despite the teardrop sapphire starting to get rather annoying in the past three or four hours he’s had it on.

“Oikawa,” Prince Iwaizumi greets, and they all take their seats, Oikawa next to Prince Iwaizumi and across from Akaashi. “How was your day?”

“I saw the garden,” Oikawa smooths out his pants, and Prince Iwaizumi’s brow furrows.

“We have a garden?”

“It is dying,” Oikawa notes, and steaming plates are immediately brought out.

It looks like food from home, a simple broth with rice noodles, some meat bleeding out salty juices. It’s simple, but it’s damn near beautiful. His mouth waters at the smell, and his stomach quietly growls, begging to be fed. The two betas test their food, and Bokuto tests his own and Akaashi’s, everyone waiting around for everything to cool before they can start to eat.

He takes a sip of his water and finds Prince Iwaizumi staring at him, his eyes quickly finding the bowl of food in front of him. Oikawa blinks at the gesture, wondering if he’s done something wrong, and the betas take their leave to stand outside of the door, patting Iwaizumi on the shoulder and giving him words of encouragement that make him turn pink.

“Oh, right.” Akaashi mumbles, getting Oikawa’s attention. “Be prepared. Your alpha is going to fuck you tonight.”

Oikawa blanks, his mind providing him with the memory of Prince Iwaizumi’s hot skin against his thighs, pounding into him. He blinks away the thought and his mouth goes dry, his hand quickly grabbing for his goblet as he tries to hide his flushing face.

Oh gods, help him get through this dinner.

“Are you okay?” Prince Iwaizumi innocently asks. “What did Akaashi say?”

Oikawa almost spits out his water back into his cup.

Bokuto grabs his attention before Oikawa can answer, and Oikawa coughs a little, staring at Akaashi from across the table. His eyes are amused as he looks at him above his own cup, and Oikawa just _knows_ that he had a hand in this. He mouths a small thank you, for helping him come into his purpose, and Akaashi pretends not to know what he’s talking about, sending a wink as he joins in the conversation.

Dinner continues as a crawl, Oikawa and Prince Iwaizumi catching each other giving awkward, longing glances out of the corners of their eyes. His eyes are a darker green, and Oikawa could almost burn under the heat of his gaze. It’s smothering, as if Prince Iwaizumi is staring into his soul.

Oikawa eats slowly, his stomach churning with excitement, anxiety, and anticipation. Prince Iwaizumi and Bokuto finish their meals and strike up a conversation, Akaashi rolling his eyes and putting his spoon down as he turns to Oikawa.

“You smell a little anxious, Oikawa.”

Oikawa watches a piece of onion submerge itself in the remainder of his soup. He doesn't look up from it, and the words come shakily.

“What if he doesn't want me?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Prince, what if he leaves again?”

Akaashi’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table to hold his hand over Oikawa’s. His eyes are serious, the blue turning stony.

“I can promise you now that that won’t be the case. You do want him too, right?”

Oikawa’s never been more sure of anything in his life, and his nods reflect that.

“Then everything will be fine. I swear.”

Oikawa recoils his hand and cradles it in his other, his fingers twitching. 

What if the Prince sees him naked and decides to leave again? What if he can’t get Prince Iwaizumi to finish? What if the Prince hates the sounds he makes, and he’ll be forced to go back to square one?

There’s another hand on his thigh, and he looks to his left to catch Iwaizumi’s gaze. His eyes are soft. Questioning. Comforting.

Oikawa knows how dark they can get, how wanting.

The hand on his thigh is warm, firm, muscular, sourcing ease straight into his being. His muscles start to relax, and he can only imagine what these hands will feel like later. He can smell flowers in the room, faint and pleasant but sweet and needy.

He closes his eyes and lets a small sigh pass over his lips, looking up at Iwaizumi through his eyelashes.

Prince Iwaizumi pushes his bowl towards the center of the table and offers an apologetic few words to Bokuto and Akaashi. Bokuto looks a little dejected, but Akaashi puts a hand on his shoulder, saying things Oikawa can only assume are excuses. He gives Oikawa a knowing look and slightly nods towards the door.

Thank the gods for Akaashi.

Prince Iwaizumi stands up and Oikawa promptly follows, Prince Iwaizumi wrapping an arm around his waist as he opens the door. The two betas say a few words, their voices lilted, teasing, and Prince Iwaizumi gives them a hard stare and an obscene gesture. They laugh, and Oikawa lets himself be led to their bedroom.

His heart hammers against his chest, and he knows that Prince Iwaizumi can feel it, too, his grip on Oikawa’s waist tightening.

“Is it okay if I touch your waist?”

“It is fine,” Oikawa breathes. “You’ll be touching a lot more in a few minutes.”

It’s just a fact, a blunt fact that Oikawa didn't really mean in a sexy way, but the way Prince Iwaizumi bites his lip has him thinking otherwise. He curses under his breath, and that look of _desire_ returns to his eyes, the same desire that had gazed upon his body and called him beautiful.

The sun has set as they make their way to their room, _their_ room, barely acknowledging the people they pass as they make their way. Oikawa keeps walking, but Prince Iwaizumi stops him with a small chuckle, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the hallway.

Kuroo opens his door, his eyes brightening as he greets Iwaizumi, but Iwaizumi holds his hand up and continues his march down towards his own room. Kuroo leans in his doorway and chuckles, shrugging his shoulders and stepping back into his own room, Prince Iwaizumi pulling the doors open and ushering Oikawa inside.

“You smell so good, Oikawa,” Prince Iwaizumi mumbles, pushing on Oikawa’s shoulders to meet him halfway, their lips meeting. “Are you releasing your scent like that on purpose?”

“No,” Oikawa breathes, fearing that he’s done something wrong already.

“Vekk, don’t stop,” He curses, deepening the kiss, Oikawa’s cheeks fit between his hands.

Things get mouthy again, and Oikawa sighs into the kiss, his own lips just as rough as Iwaizumi’s now. Iwaizumi reaches his hand blindly and starts smacking at the wall, light suddenly flooding the room.

Oikawa grunts in confusion and pulls his head away, looking at the switch on Iwaizumi’s wall, wires secured by hooks working their way up towards his ceiling. 

“What is that,” Oikawa mumbles, his eyes going wide as he presses the switch.

The lights go off, and Oikawa yelps, holding onto Prince Iwaizumi’s shirt as a low rumble of laughter starts to vibrate from his lungs. 

“Have you never seen this before?”

He presses the switch and the lights turn back on, his eyes showcasing his amusement. Oikawa looks at the odd glass on the ceiling at the other end of the wires.

“Electricity. Science. Right now it’s only in a few parts of the castle and in the town where it was invented, but we think it could be used widespread in the coming decades.”

Oikawa butchers the word as he repeats it.

“Close enough,” Prince Iwaizumi laughs again, the sound pleasant, warm, like a songbird’s first notes. “Don’t worry, we still have lamps.”

“Yeah,” Is all Oikawa can think to say, looking at the magic wires, Prince Iwaizumi pulling him over to the bed. He lights the lamp as Oikawa sits down, the lamp providing more than enough light, Prince Iwaizumi turning the eletric-whatever back off.

He’s always looked best in the amber glow of the lamplight.

“Is this still okay?” Prince Iwaizumi asks as he approaches the bed, placing his hands on either side of Oikawa.

“Yes,” Oikawa breathes out, running his tongue quickly over his lips, Iwaizumi stealing his breath. “Everything is perfectly fine.”

One hand reaches up and removes his crown, Prince Iwaizumi grabbing his own off of his head and placing them both haphazardly on the bedside table, his hands pulling the hem of Oikawa’s shirt out of its tucked position. 

His mouth is warm, both of their mouths are, and last time the kiss was this deep, Oikawa had slammed himself onto Iwaizumi’s body. Before then, he had been fucked into soon after, and he’s hoping for a repeat of the latter.

He lightly groans as he feels a small gush of slick leave his body, only slightly embarrassed before Prince Iwaizumi licks into his mouth. He reciprocates, trying to copy the moves, but his inexperience speaks volumes, and he just lets his alpha take the lead.

Oh, how he’s waited for this moment.

His top half is soon bare, Prince Iwaizumi shedding his own shirt as he presses kisses around Oikawa’s mouth. His knee spreads Oikawa’s legs, and Oikawa whimpers at the near contact, Prince Iwaizumi running his tongue down to suck at his scent glands.

He runs his nails down Prince Iwaizumi’s back, stifles a moan, and the Prince pulls away, his eyes flashing worry.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa answers, pushing himself further into the bed to make more room for Prince Iwaizumi. 

“You can moan, you know,” Prince Iwaizumi notes, moving to shed his other layers of clothing, Oikawa wiggling out of his pants. “If it feels good, don’t hide it.”

That’s an order.

Oikawa nods eagerly and throws his pants into the pile the Prince has created on the floor, sitting up as the Prince captures his mouth again, a warm hand running up his thigh. He sighs at the pressure, and the Prince wraps his hand around Oikawa’s length, giving slow strokes, collecting some of the precum that’s already started to leak out of Oikawa’s tip into his palm, his strokes turning increasingly generous.

Oikawa rests his head on Prince Iwaizumi’s shoulder, humming, letting the vibrations soak into his hardened muscle. His smell is heavy in the air, and it’s all Oikawa can breathe in, everything dizzying, making him light-headed as his alpha pleasures him. 

It’s his job to pleasure his alpha, but his head is fuzzy, pleasure drunk, and he lets Iwaizumi work his mouth over his torso, lapping at skin, sucking light bruises, tongue swirling around his nipples. He whines, deep in the back of his throat.

“Alpha, please,” He begs, and more slick leaves him, dripping down his thighs and onto the sheets, the sickly sweet smell of honeysuckle filling out the empty space of the room.

“Fuck,” The Prince mutters in his native language, having said it enough times for Oikawa to surely guess its meaning. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The words hit him like he’s just been slammed into the wall. Confusion prickles across every inch of his skin, replaced with the warmth of Iwaizumi’s hands moving away to grip his waist, pushing him fully onto the bed. 

“You’re so beautiful, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi kisses across his jawline, moving back down to his neck. His teeth graze across his left scent gland, and Oikawa squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his legs around Iwaizumi’s waist. “So good for me.”

Oikawa moans at just the words, shamelessly, now, the Prince’s voice echoing in his brain as he continues to suck up and down his neck. The Prince hesitates, feels the goosebumps that have formed on his arms, and raises his mouth back to Oikawa’s ear.

“You’re such a good omega for me, Oikawa,” His voice is husky, sultry, and Oikawa whines, another gush of slick escapes him.

His body trembles under the Prince’s touch, and the Prince stares in amazement, his eyes fluttering between Oikawa’s face, his neck, his hips, and his thighs. 

“You really like this, don’t you?” The Prince whispers, more to himself than anything, and Oikawa nods, resting his teeth on his bottom lip. “Oikawa, can you get into a position where I can finger you?”

Oikawa nearly sobs with need, twisting his body around to present to the Prince. This is the proper way, and he’ll be mounted and fucked like he had been their wedding night. Globs of hot slick trickle down the length of his thighs, and a firm hand spreads his cheeks apart.

“You must like this position,” The Prince notes, running his hand along the curve of Oikawa’s body. He only gets wetter with anticipation, and Prince Iwaizumi runs his finger up the trail it leaves, back up to circle around and tease at Oikawa’s entrance.

His breath hitches in his throat, and his toes clench as one of his fingers inserts itself into him. He gives a small shaky gasp, and pushes back into the Prince’s hand.

“It’s tradition,” Oikawa mutters into the sheets. “All alphas take their omegas like this.”

The fingers thrust a bit slower, and Oikawa can just see the way Prince Iwaizumi’s brow furrows, not even having to look at him. It’s the air around him, and Oikawa’s heart flutters, sinks, and the silence instills fear.

“Would you be open to trying something new?”

“If you want to,” Oikawa says, tears close to forming in his eyes but moaning when a second finger brushes past his prostate. “Ah, fuck.”

Prince Iwaizumi takes the hint and presses down, Oikawa letting out a breathy gasp as he pushes his hips back, the fingers going deeper inside of him. Gods, he wants to feel this again. All the time. Would it be proper to warm his husband’s cock for the rest of his life?

He entertains the thought before he pushes it aside. Right now, he needs to be fuller, and even when he’s worked up to three fingers, it’s still not enough.

But he shouldn't beg or rush the Prince. He has no right to order him around, either. He just moans when he feels good, takes the Prince’s fingers, and tries not to cum without the Prince. There’s a coil compressing within him, getting tighter, tighter, and he groans, his cock yearning to be touched.

The fingers pull out of him, and the Prince taps his thigh.

“Can you lay on your back?”

Oikawa immediately does so, keeping his legs spread, waiting for his alpha, everything that is his omega self on full display for his alpha. Prince Iwaizumi stares, taking in the sight with that dark gaze, that eager gloss, and he moves into position. The Prince pulls his legs around him, lifts his hips up to his own, and inches closer, the Prince’s cock mere inches away from entering him. 

He could cry.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa confirms, thinking back to how the last time he had been put on his back, the Prince had seen his crying face and left him in the bed alone. Anxious flowers, and Prince Iwaizumi monitors him closely as he slowly inches into him. 

He’s so _thick._

Oikawa lets a sharp breath cross over his lips, settling deep in his lungs, his wet hole stretching over half the Prince’s length. It’s a lot more careful than when he had slammed his body down onto him in the bath house, and less uncomfortable than his first time.

He knew that it would get easier with time, fucked again and again into becoming the perfect mold of Iwaizumi’s body. He shivers, euphoria settling into his bones.

He’s being a good omega, taking his alpha so well. There’s no resistance, no pain, and he’s in a position he knows his alpha will like.

He’s being _good._

“Feel okay?”

“Very,” Oikawa hums through a lazy smile, the feeling of the stretch alone enough to make him want to go over the edge. “Like I said, you’re very skilled.”

“Thank you,” The Prince says simply, chuckling and shallowly thrusting into him. “You’re kinda tight, Oikawa.”

_Fear._

“I’m sor-”

“Feels fucking amazing,” Prince Iwaizumi groans out, gently grabbing Oikawa’s hips to pull him closer. “So fucking good, ‘kawa. Just perfect.”

Prince Iwaizumi leans down and places his lips upon Oikawa’s, every kiss punctuated with a deep thrust into him. They’re slow, calculated, and Oikawa sighs or moans or kisses with each one, Prince Iwaizumi greedily taking each response into his mouth with increasingly heated open-mouthed kisses.

Oikawa doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything, losing himself in the rhythm of Iwaizumi’s thrusts as he fucks into him. He grabs at skin, at sheets, at himself, cries out when the Prince wraps a hand around him, pumping him in time. Oikawa gasps, moans, fire igniting across his skin, clenching his toes and his eyes, his legs shaking in pleasure.

There’s tears in his eyes again, but they’re good tears, they’re hot and they’re slick and they’re entirely pleased, and he lets out a strangled cry as the tight coil in his stomach releases, streaks of cum splattering across his stomach. His hole clenches, a final mini-flood of slick pushing out, and the Prince gives out a string of short curses and foreign praise.

A few more sloppy thrusts, uncaring about anything except chasing pleasure, wet, tight, and _hot,_ Oikawa turning ever-more sensitive as the Prince thrusts and comes with a moan, painting his insides with his release.

He feels even fuller, now, panting for cold breath in a tea and flower filled room, hand over his chest, heart thumping, gulping air like it’s the last few sips of water on earth. 

“Fuck,” He rasps out in his native tongue, blissed out and riding the high of being able to make his alpha finish. He’s still full, pulsing with release, his eyesight bleary and a stupid smile plastered on his face.

It’s all he’s ever wanted, to be fucked stupid like this. A stupid, fucked out omega with a happy, satisfied alpha still inside him. It’s perfect.

“Fuck,” He repeats, the word nothing short of a compliment as the Prince pulls out of him, fluid dripping down onto the sheets along with it.

Prince Iwaizumi rolls onto his back, his hand searching for Oikawa, pulling him onto his sweaty chest and Oikawa just lets him, breathing in as much black tea as he can. It’s the smell of _his_ alpha, and it’s all just for _him._

He smiles again, and the Prince starts pressing gentle kisses into his hair, nuzzling, and Oikawa can feel him smile against his skin. Another kiss, and he can see those shining white teeth as the Prince pulls away, basking in everything that is Oikawa.

Red faced, slightly crying, covered in pleasure and still shaking with excitement.

It’s a beautiful thing.

The Prince’s lips start to form words, and Oikawa just _knows_ that they’re going to be just as stupid and blissed out as he feels. He stares in full regard at the mess that Oikawa is, his green eyes full of warmth, shifting back into the color of the rich oak trees that lined their way home. He shakes his head in disbelief, his half hug grip on the omega growing tighter, and the words roll so easily off his tongue it’s like they’d been resting there all night.

“So fucking beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Translations
> 
>  **Carriage Scene**  
>  Seijoh Language
> 
> Te re yeake dom meve feis u reineke - You sure got home earlier than expected
> 
> Vi nish kweseke demonsesh vi u spoz - Couldn't wait to show off my husband
> 
> Weh leve hale Karasale ro Shiratorizale - He only speaks Karasu and Shiratorizawan
> 
> Pasa (or pa-sa) - Dad/Father/Fond word for other beta/alpha figures older than oneself (Musa or Mu-sa counterpart)
> 
> Weh mie zuer, Hajime - He seems strong, Hajime
> 
> Te zepake e meve bei koize - You made a very fine choice


End file.
